


Winter's Dreams into Summer Magic

by EndoratheWitch



Series: Holiday Drabble requests [19]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Human AU, Irish, Scotland, Scottish, St. Patrick's Day, lying to your mother is bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 92,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Bog lies to his mother





	1. The Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoyalFlushGang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalFlushGang/gifts).



> I know nothing about boats except little fishing boats so if I got my information wrong forgive me! Please!
> 
> Also, Clan Tartans. The King family doesn't actually have one so instead I used one from my mother's side of the family which is the Hamilton family tartan (one of two).

Bog frowned as he read over the email from his mother, his heart sinking, and his entire face going pale as he read over the message. His mother was having a big family get together for St. Patrick’s Day. (His mother was Irish and his father was Scottish, which meant that he had grown up in a very interesting household.) Everyone was going to be there because it was half St. Patrick’s Day celebration combined with that fact that it was also his great grandfather’s hundred and first birthday. His mother was hoping he could catch a flight home to Kirkcudbright for the celebration. She made a point of reminding him how he had missed his grandfather’s last four birthdays and to bring his fiancee because the family would love to finally meet the girl who had won his heart after all this time. 

Bog swallowed, took a breath, and looked at the email again; no change, of course. He was happy to visit his family, except for one small problem--there was no girl, there hadn't been a girl at all, not even a date, a one night stand...nothing at all. 

He had made the whole thing up so that his mother would stop nagging him. After the hundredth video chat with his parents, and his mother asking him about his sex life, Bog had made up his fiancee in a desperate act to save himself. The fib had been a moment of weakness!! But his mother had been so happy and his father too. Bog had thought he would tell them eventually that he and the imaginary girl had broken up, but each phone call, each email, each video chat made it harder and harder for him to say something as he made up stories about why she wasn’t there during a video chat or phone call. The whole thing had simply just kept spiralling out of his control. After a while Bog, figured he was safe because, well, his parents were in Scotland and he was here. He hadn’t been home in four years, and they had only been able to afford to come and visit him once during that time, so he thought he might be able to drag the lie out at least for a little while longer. Bog closed his eyes, pressing his lips together, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was so stupid. 

Bog had moved to the States for work four years ago, an opportunity he hadn’t been able to ignore to be a partner in an engineering firm. While he loved his family deeply, he had also liked the idea of getting away from them and trying something new, something just for himself. 

While his mother meant well, she was constantly trying to set him up on dates with anyone with breasts. It had gotten so bad that Bog had asked his father for help only to have his Da shrug and mutter, “I canna tell yer mother anything son--you know that.” 

So moving had been his only escape. That and the job had been too good to refuse. 

Bog had been against the idea of love for a long time, ever since he had his heart broken, but his mother just wouldn’t give up. His mother was convinced that there was someone out there for him. Well, Bog knew that love wasn’t something meant for people like him...ugly, hideous people like him always ended up alone, that was just how it was... 

Bog bit his lip and sighed. Now he had gotten himself stuck in a corner. Either tell his mother he had been lying to her all this time--and suffer unimaginable consequences--or continue lying. One would hurt her more than the other… 

Bog chewed his bottom lip in thought. There was only one person who he thought might be able to help him with this...the woman who he had told his mother he was engaged to, the woman who’s picture he had sent to his mother claiming she was his fiancee. A woman he had barely spoken two words with at the building Christmas party this last Christmas, but who was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the woman he had a secret crush on… ...Marianne Summerfield. 

* 

Bog made his way down to the lower half of the building where he worked, taking the stairs instead of the elevator because he needed the time to think how he was going to ask Marianne Summerfield to help him out. The building was sectioned off into three levels. The top floor was owned by the company in which he was a partner, Dark Forest Industry. The second floor was held by an architecture firm called Glory Design, and the bottom floor held an expensive restaurant called Brightside as well as the Primrose Art Gallery that was run by two sisters, Marianne and Dawn Summerfield. That was Bog’s goal. 

Bog swallowed. His heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt and he was sweating. A lot of sweating. 

What was he doing? he asked himself. 

* 

Marianne sat at the front desk of the gallery working on the computer, updating their catalogue, and doing some intake paperwork for some new artwork that had come into the gallery last week. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see Bog King stepping into the hall in front of the gallery’s glass doors. 

She smiled at little. Bog King was an awkward, but handsome man; tall and lean with broad shoulders, slender hips. He had a long and narrow face, but his eyes were an amazing shade of blue. She found him to be adorkably cute. 

She tried not be stare or be obvious about her watching him while he paced in front of the gallery entrance. He was dressed in a pair of dark grey and white slacks, with a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of light brown ankle boots. She grinned looking back at her computer screen. She liked his long legs and the way his broad shoulders tapered down to his slim waist. 

Marianne also liked his accent. He was from Scotland and had a deep warm purr to his voice that made her shiver. 

She had never really “met” Bog King. They had been introduced at the building Christmas party last year, but he had been so shy...and so had she, which meant they had only exchanged a handful of words. Since then they had said hello to each other every time they ran across one another, but that had been about it. Marianne liked him, and thought he might like her too, but he had never asked her out. She had thought about asking him out herself, but then had begun to second guess herself, wondering if he would be upset by that, or would he like that? She didn’t know and thus, she had done nothing but like him from afar. 

Marianne wrinkled her nose, focusing on her work for a moment when the light chime that hung over the gallery door tinkled softly. She looked up, her eyes going wide in surprise when she saw Bog King walk in purposefully, striding over to stop in front of her desk. 

Bog swallowed hard, licked his lips as he tried to maintain a calm demeanor, and looked down at Marianne. God she was even cuter than he remembered from this morning! Her short brown hair framed her pixie like features, her eyes were large and golden, her lips were painted a dark plum, and she was wearing a tight little purple sweater with a short black skirt, hose and boots. 

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, hello.” 

Marianne smiled “Hi.” 

Bog smiled awkwardly at her. “Ah, hi...ah…” He laughed nervously. 

Marianne waited, still smiling. He was so cute she thought, the way he had one lock of dark hair that kept falling across his forehead no matter how many times he shoved it back, slightly crooked teeth and wow...his eyes were just wowzers blue! He wasn’t “handsome” in the traditional sense, but she liked the way he looked, thin and all sharp lines. She sucked her bottom lip smiling as she lifted her brow at him waiting, maybe, just maybe he was finally going to ask her out! 

Bog laughed awkwardly again. “Ah, look...I have something I need to ask you and...ah…” Bog looked down at his feet. How the hell was he going to do this??!! He wanted to sink into the floor, this was the most embarrassing...god...she was going to hate him and then he would have to fly to Scotland and confess to his mother who would be both heartbroken and pissed...he might not make it back to the States alive. He would end up in a cairn in some hillside with a warning carved in stone at the entrance: He disappointed his mother! Beware! 

Marianne watched him expectantly, her heart racing, her fingers crossed under her desk, though she was beginning to wonder if she should maybe make this easier for him because he really seemed nervous and stressed. Heck, he looked about ready to break down. Marianne took a deep breath through her nose before she spoke. 

“Hey, I ah, have a lunch break in fifteen minutes, but I could take it early and we could grab coffee or lunch?” Marianne asked lifting her brows as she looked up at him. 

Bog stared at her for a moment as if he had never heard english before. After a beat he nodded as her words sunk in. “Ah, yeah...yeah um...I’ll meet you back here in a couple of minutes. I’ll just go grab my jacket…” He pointed behind him with his thumb, nervously taking several steps backwards. 

Marianne smiled and nodded. “Okay.” 

Bog smiled at her continuing to walk backwards for a few seconds before bumping into the door of the gallery. He jumped in surprise, his eyes widening. He turned around quickly and grabbed the door handle, then stepped out. He turned around to wave at her again before hurrying to the door to the stairs. He pulled the door open, leaned back to wave again, cringing in the next second before he disappeared. 

Marianne watched him go with a smile. He was definitely cute. 

“Dawn!!” Marianne stood up shutting down her computer files. “Hey Dawn!” 

Her little sister came hurrying from the back where she had been in the storeroom organizing some pieces that were going on display this week. Dawn was wearing some denim overalls that were stained with a rainbow of paint colors, a little white t-shirt underneath and her short blonde hair held back from her face by a band that was decorated with tiny glittering daisies. To complete her outfit was a pair of paint stained tennis shoes. When Dawn wasn’t working on organizing works of art for display at the gallery, she was doing her own painting. 

She grinned brightly at her sister. “Hey sis what’s up?” 

“You mind manning the station while I take my lunch early?” Marianne asked while picking up a few files and shoving them back in their folders. 

“Sure thing sis.” Dawn smiled walking over to flop down in the desk chair. 

Marianne smiled. “Thanks. Remember that guy from the Christmas party, the one with the accent?” 

Dawn looked to the side in thought before she grinned. “Oh yeah, the really tall one. Yeah I remember him, his voice was dreamy and didn’t he had awesome blue eyes?” 

Marianne pointed at her sister. “That’s the one! He just asked me to lunch.” 

Dawn, who had been about to start spinning herself in a circle in the chair stopped. “He did? Finally? Did all your staring at his butt finally pay off?” 

Marianne didn’t tell her sister how she had done the actual asking, but nodded instead. “Yes! I mean, no! I haven’t been staring at his butt!” 

Dawn smirked at her sister. “Right, you keep telling yourself that. Ooooh, well good luck sis. Let me know what he’s like in bed.” Dawn grinned impishly. 

Marianne smacked her sister in the shoulder with the file as she started to walk to the back to get her purse. “Dawn! Geez! It’s only lunch!” 

Dawn giggled. “It’s only lunch now…” 

* 

Bog took Marianne down the street to a local deli. He didn’t trust himself to walk more than a few blocks and he was so nervous he thought driving would be a bad idea. As the two of them walked down the street together he kept looking sideways at her, sneaking glances. She was so pretty--pretty, smart, talented. She didn’t just work in the gallery, he had found out from one of the other women that worked on his floor that she was a sculptor too. He had looked her up online to see her work and had been impressed. She did realistic sculptures that reminded him a little of ancient Greek and Roman works, though she tended to sculpt real people in the roles of gods, goddesses or other ancient pagan creatures. He had thought about buying one of her pieces, but worried that would be stepping into “stalker” territory and had never done it. Of course now what he was going to do was worse wasn’t it he asked himself. Asking her to pretend to be his...Bog closed his eyes for a moment and nearly walked into a street sign. 

Marianne grabbed his arm, “Bog!” stopping him before he face planted into the sign. “You all right?” 

Bog nodded. “Yeah...yeah I’m fine. Oh look we’re here!” he hurried over to get the door for her smiling awkwardly. 

Marianne smiled at him trying to reassure him. Bog looked so nervous it was almost painful she thought as she stepped through the door. 

* 

The local deli, Rathburns, smelled of coffee, fresh bread and soup. The inside of the place had dark wood paneling mixed with brick, hardwood floors with little round tables and wire chairs. The front of the place was a large glass display that showed everything anyone could possibly put on a sandwich: fresh meats, so many dressings and spreads that Marianne didn’t know half of what they were, veggies from lettuce to cucumber to kale, bean sprouts to anchovies. 

Bog found them a seat, pulling her chair out for her. They both looked over the chalkboard menu overhead. Bog removed his jacket hanging it over the back of his chair as Marianne decided on on a veggie sandwich and water for her lunch. “Ah, I’ll go place our order...be right back…” 

Marianne smiled. “Thank you Bog.” 

The next few minutes were busy with Bog placing their orders, getting their drinks, and an awkward silence while they waited for their food before Bog could hurry off and claim their lunch. Now they sat facing each other, Bog staring down at his sandwich, a turkey, pastrami and provolone with an assortment of veggies, which he hadn’t touched. Marianne had ordered the garden sandwich which she hadn’t touched yet either--Bog’s nervousness was rubbing off on her. 

Bog picked at the bread of his sandwich staring down at it when he finally said softly. “Look, I ah...I have a huge favor to ask you and I don’t know how to go about it.” 

Marianne picked up her drink taking a sip of her water. “Just ask, how bad can it be?” 

Bog frowned picking a hole in his bread. “I ah...I told my mother I was engaged…to ah...to get her to stop trying to fix me up or pestering me about finding a girlfriend…” He swallowed continuing to shred the bread of his sandwich. “And now she wants me to come home for St. Patrick’s Day...but also because it’s my great grandfather’s birthday and she wants me to bring my fiancee to finally meet the family, especially since we don’t know how long my great grandda will be around…and ah, he really wants to meet this girl...” Bog’s accent was becoming thicker as he spoke. “I might have sent my Mam your picture...and…uh, told her you were my fiancee...” He closed his eyes. “I wanted to know if you would go to Scotland with me and pretend to be my fiancee.” 

He cringed after he said it, drawing in on himself as he waited to be told what a jerk he was. He stared down at his sandwich which he was quickly destroying by picking at it. 

Marianne stared at him. That was not at all what she had been expecting. 

She frowned and began to pick at her own sandwich. “So, ah...are you gay?” 

Bog’s head shot up, his eyebrows lifted in confusion. “No, why would you think that?” 

Marianne blushed. “Well, I mean if you were having a hard time telling your mother you were still single, but you lied…” 

Bog shook his head. “No, no it’s nothing like that. No one in my family cares about that...no it’s just that…” He sighed. “I had a bad break up several years ago and I kind of swore off love, but my Mam, and well...my entire family, wants me to find someone, get married, an’ be happy and I just don’t think that is something that I can have...you know?” He gestured at himself. “I’m hideous, guys like me don’t get happily ever afters. So anyway, so that my Mam would stop worrying and stop trying to set me up constantly, I lied.” 

“And you used my picture as your fake fiancee?” Marianne asked looking up at him. 

Bog looked pale, his lips a tight line and he nodded. “Aye, I did. I’m sorry.” 

Marianne was both flattered and annoyed, she wasn’t sure which was stronger at the moment. She picked up her water again and took a sip. “So you want me to what? Just fly to Scotland with you and keep up this lie?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye…I mean I’ll pay for everything. We’ll stay at a hotel in separate rooms, you don’t have to do anything just...pretend you like me and then as soon as we are gone I’ll tell them we broke up--or maybe the truth...with a safe amount of water between me and my Mam.” 

Marianne frowned. “Why don’t you tell them the truth now?” 

Bog sighed. “My great grandda, this is his hundred and first birthday. I guess...I don’t want to disappoint him…” Bog dropped his elbows on the table and covered his face. “I don't’ know! I don’t know what I’m doing. It just seemed like an innocent, easily kept up lie since my family is so far away and...and you are so pretty and talented and just the type of girl I wish I could get and I…” He groaned loudly. “I’m an idiot,” he muttered. 

Marianne watched him, a smile tugging at her lips. He really was sweet--stupid, but sweet. He wanted to make his family happy, his mother happy; that wasn’t a bad quality. And he thought she was pretty and talented. She smirked with a look down at her sandwich. She could just say no, tell him that he needed to confess to his mother and face the consequences, but...maybe she was an idiot too. 

“Okay, how long do we have to do this for?” Marianne asked softly. 

Bog slowly dragged his hands down to reveal only his eyes. “What?” 

“How long would this be for, the visit?” she asked looking him straight in the eye. 

Bog dropped his hands in shock. “No more than a week. Like I said, I’ll pay for everything, we will have seperate rooms…” 

“I’ll want to bring my sister,” Marianne stated. 

Bog blinked in surprise, then nodded “Sure, yes, of course.” 

Marianne grinned. That was a test and he had passed. “We’ll have to work out some ground rules…” 

Bog nodded. “Of course, whatever you want, you don’t have to kiss me or even touch me…” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose at him. “We can’t sell this if we don’t kiss, but only in front of your family and holding hands and stuff. We have to do that or they’ll know something is up.” Her heart was pounding, but she put her hand out to him. “Deal.” 

Bog smiled at her then and her heart sped up. He was really damn cute, she couldn’t believe he thought himself as hideous and that he didn’t deserve to be happy. The fact that he did made her sad. Maybe that was why she was agreeing to this, she didn’t know, but she suddenly wanted to go to Scotland with him, and she wanted to make the mother of this awkward, handsome man happy. 

Bog smiled shyly. “So, ah, how would you like to come with me tomorrow to go ring shopping?” 

Marianne giggled picking up her sandwich. “I would love it.” 

* 

After lunch Bog escorted Marianne back to work. He had shyly shook her hand at the door to the gallery. (Dawn was at the desk, watching with a grin). “So, um, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven?” 

Marianne nodded. “Sounds good.” 

Bog hung onto her hand a little longer than necessary before he finally realized what he was doing, dropping her hand like it was hot. “Ah, yes, so--meet you here tomorrow.” He blushed bright red and hurried to the elevator. He stopped, gave her a short wave as he fumbled at the “up” button with his other hand. 

“Thank you again.” 

Marianne smiled waving back. “You’re welcome.” 

She waited until he was gone before she stepped back into the gallery. There were a few people in here, but not many as she hurried over to her sister. Dawn smirked up at her. “So, details…” 

Marianne set her purse down on the desk and whispered. “You are not going to believe this, but he asked me to marry him.” 

Dawn blurted out loudly enough that her voice echoed through the gallery. “WHAT?!” 

Marianne hissed at her sister, using her hand to motion her to be quiet. “Dawn!” 

Dawn grabbed her sister’s arm and yanked her close. “Explain.” 

Marianne glanced around to make sure no one was within listening distance. “He asked me to pretend to be engaged with him and he is flying us both to Scotland with him to meet his family. 

Bog told his mother he was engaged to get her to stop trying to fix him up…” 

Dawn interrupted. “Is he having trouble coming out?” 

Marianne laughed. “No, no nothing like that...he just doesn’t have a good outlook on love, doesn’t think he deserves love, but...he lied to his mother to make her happy and he doesn’t want to tell her he lied. Anyway, I agreed to help him. He’s really sweet.” 

Dawn blinked in surprise. “You did? And he is flying us both to Scotland? Why am I coming?” 

Marianne shrugged. “I don’t know, protection, in case I’m wrong about him.” 

“Do you think you’re wrong about him?” Dawn asked lifting a brow at her sister. 

“No, no I don’t. I think he is a shy, lonely man who doesn’t think well about himself and cares a great deal about his family. I want to help him,” Marianne said softly. 

Dawn grinned, her mind running over all the possible ways this little scenario could work out...just like a flipping movie! Dawn giggled clapping. “Well, this is going to be fun! I’ve always wanted to go to Scotland!” 

Marianne grinned. “Yeah, he is taking me out to pick out an engagement ring tomorrow.” 

Dawn laughed. “Ooooh...better be careful you don’t end up really getting married.” 

Marianne blushed and hissed. “Shut up.” 

* 

The next day Marianne was waiting outside the professional building. She had dressed carefully, wearing a dark purple thin cotton turtleneck with a pair of black textured trousers and some cute flats. She wanted to look nice, like she was really shopping for an engagement ring. She held her purse against her stomach, pacing back and forth when she saw Bog hurrying down the street toward her, his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks. She swallowed, her breath taken away, watching as the tall man approached, easily visible as he was at least a head taller than anyone else around him on the sidewalk. He was wearing a pair of navy blue slacks, a light blue dress shirt and dark blue tie under a brown leather bomber jacket with brown suede oxfords and Marianne was sure she had just died and gone to heaven. Wow...he was going to be her fiance...wow… 

Bog hurried down the sidewalk. He was running a few minutes late because of traffic and his own nerves. As he approached the building front, he saw her waiting for him and his heart stopped. She was just so damn beautiful he thought, he couldn’t believe she had agreed to his stupid plan. 

He smiled shyly when he saw her. “Ah, sorry I was late...you ready?” 

Marianne nodded, surprising him when she reached out and took his hand, gently pulling his hand from his pocket before she weaved her fingers with his. “Yes, I’m ready.” 

Bog blushed looking down at their hands. “Ah, you don’t have to…” 

She smiled. “We should get used to it so we don’t mess up in front of your family.” 

Bog nodded. “Oh yeah...that makes sense.” 

He very gently tightened his grip on her hand. She could feel how nervous he was, so she wrapped her other hand gently around his arm and smiled up at him. “We can do this Bog.” 

Bog nodded taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Okay, let’s go.” 

* 

The jeweler they went to was down the street from where they both worked, a small place called Diamonds are Forever. It was the only jeweler Bog knew since he had bought his mother a necklace here for Christmas, so he figured it was the best place to get a ring for his fake bride-to-be. 

The interior of the jewelry store was small and cozy, with a large glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling that cast a warm, buttery glow throughout the room along with the help of the dim display lights that were only slightly brighter, enough to show off the elegance of the items on display. The lights in the store were all designed to capture the facets of the gems inside their settings; the light danced over their surfaces to reflect endlessly into the beauty of the stones. The viewer would become lost in the multicolored stones, lost in the myriad sparkles and shimmering. The jewelry store had dark carpeting with dark wood and glass display cases in muted tones so as not to take away from the jewels on display. Two young women stood at the counter. One of them came forward when Bog and Marianne stepped in. The women, a tall lean blonde reminding Bog of a crane, smiled. “Good afternoon! How can I help you today?” 

Bog swallowed, glancing nervously at Marianne; his hand in hers was becoming sweaty making him more self-conscious. “I ah...I mean…we... are looking for an engagement ring.” He shared a smile with Marianne. She resisted the urge to jump up on her toes and kiss the side of his mouth. She felt a little jittery with excitement, like she was really getting engaged. It was so odd she thought, but the feeling continued. 

The woman frowned slightly. (Usually the groom bought the ring to propose, but, people were weird she thought with a she shrug). She gave Bog and Marianne her best smile. “Congratulations!” 

Marianne smiled, squeezing Bog’s hands, both of them saying at once. “Thank you.” 

They shared a looked, then a laugh together. The sales clerk refrained from frowning again; they were a bit off she thought, but she continued to smile. “My name is Sharon--if you will follow me I’ll show you what we have in engagement rings.” 

She led them over to another glass case that was filled with rings of every shape and size, cut and color of stone. Bog cringed and murmured to Marianne. “I don’t know how a guy would do this on his own.” 

She nodded in response. “There are a lot to pick from.” 

The sales clerk opened the case, reached in, and pulled out a set of engagement rings, all nestled in little beds of black velvet. “These are some of our most popular. And these…” She pulled out a second grouping of rings. “These are some more classic designs. Then these…” She pulled out one more. “...are some of our more unusual engagement ring offerings.” 

Bog looked at all the rings, panic starting to set in just a little, but he turned to Marianne. “Ah, you can pick whichever you like.” 

Marianne frowned at him. “What about the price? Don’t you have a price point you want to stay under?” 

Bog blushed, releasing her hand to rub the back of her neck. “Ah, I don’t know. I just want you to get something you like since you are going to be wearing it, and you can keep the ring.” 

“What?” Marianne looked surprised. 

Bog shrugged. “I figure you are doing me such a huge favor I would just throw in the ring…” He frowned at her. “Is that all right?” 

Marianne blinked at him in shock. His blue eyes were just so...damn... but then she said softly giving his arm a tender squeeze. “You really are a sweet man.” 

He blushed looking down at his shoes. “No, I’m not.” 

Marianne reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “Yes you are Bog.” 

They stared at one another, something passing between them. 

The sales clerk frowned in confusion at them both. ‘She could keep the ring?’ She was certain she had heard that right. If she didn’t know better she would think that these two were just getting to know each other, but they were here to purchase an engagement ring. She narrowed her eyes a hint. A couple of weirdos, she thought, definitely weirdos. 

Marianne smiled at Bog, her gaze soft as she caressed his arm. “Come on, let’s pick them together.” 

Bog smiled at her before both of them turned their attention to the rings. After a few seconds Bog gently touched one, a 14 carat white gold ring with a magnificent marquise shaped diamond with round brilliant diamonds along the sides. It was simply perfect and was the one she had been looking at, but ignoring because she knew a ring like that had to be expensive. 

“I don’t know Bog…” she began, but Bog asked her. “Do you like it?” 

Marianne smiled. “Well, yeah--it’s gorgeous.” 

Bog looked at the clerk. “Can she try it on?” 

The clerk smiled. She may not understand what was going on with the two of them, but the man had good taste and wasn’t skimping on the ring. So, good catch she thought as she pulled the ring free. “This ring is a beautiful choice.” 

Marianne asked as she took the ring that was handed to her and slipped it onto her finger. “How much?” 

The sales clerk smiled. “Before fitting, $1,410.” 

Marianne choked. “What?” 

Bog smiled with a casual shrug. “That’s fine, do you like it? It looks perfect on your finger.” 

Marianne started to pull the ring off. “That is just way too much Bog. I can’t…” 

Bog set his hand over hers stopping her from removing the ring. “Marianne, do you like it?” 

She stared at him. “Yes.” 

He grinned and Marianne noticed that when he genuinely smiled, he had dimples. “Then we are going to get this ring.” 

“But…” She tried one more time, but Bog shook his head. “It looks perfect on your hand and…” He blushed. “It’s your engagement ring. Don’t worry about the cost--it’s fine, really.” 

Marianne blinked. She knew he was a partner in the firm where he worked, but how much money did he really make? 

“Bog I…” Marianne tried one more time, but Bog smiled at her, taking her hand with the engagement ring and kissed her knuckles before he looked over at the sales clerk. “We’ll take it.” He then very gently removed the ring from Marianne’s finger. Marianne’s eyes were on his face, his fingers, his touch was very gentle. His fingers were so long and elegant and the way he touched her was so sweet, careful, yet...she shivered, but instead of handing the ring to the sales clerk, Bog dropped down on one knee looking up at Marianne. His eyes were so damn blue she thought again as he held the ring up to her. 

“Marianne Summerfield, will you fake marry me?” Bog asked, a slight sparkle of humor in his eyes. 

Marianne giggled, holding her hand out for Bog to slip the ring on again. “Yes Bog King, I will fake marry you.” 

Bog slid the ring on her finger and stood, her hands in his. They stared at one another as if not sure what to do, they leaned close, closer... 

“So you’ll be taking it?” Sharon asked in confusion. 

Bog nodded. “Yes please.” 

The sales clerk had no idea what was going on, but shrugged. People were so weird. 

* 

On the way out of the jewelry store (they would be picking the ring up tomorrow after it had been sized) Marianne frowned. “Bog, that was a lot of money.” 

He shrugged. “I’m single--I make a lot of money, but I don’t spend a lot of it. This is fine and I’m glad I got you a pretty ring. Besides, if I didn’t get my fiancee a beautiful ring, my mother would kill me.” He laughed softly. “Besides, you deserve it for being so patient and understanding with how stupid I am.” 

Marianne smiled with a soft laugh, but she replied. “Why are you single? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

Bog shrugged his hands in the front pockets of his slacks as they walked. “I was in love once but…” He frowned looking at nothing, his eyes distant and a little sad. “She didn’t love me, told me I was too hideous to love...and I realized she was correct.” 

“You’re not hideous at all Bog,” Marianne said softly. 

Bog looked sideways at her with a frown, but said nothing. 

* 

‘Twas the night before they were to catch their flight to Scotland. In a little diner, Dawn and Marianne sat across a booth table from Bog, a notebook between them as they waited for their orders. Dawn picked the notebook up, reading through the notes, the pen they were using to write with in her hand. 

“Okay, so you both met at the building Christmas party, that one should be easy to remember since you guys did actually meet at last year’s party, but you are going with that you met a couple of years ago, right?” Dawn looked up, her eyes darting between them. 

Bog nodded. “Aye, that’s correct.” 

Dawn made a note. “First kiss?” 

Bog and Marianne exchanged a look, but Bog said softly. “The bridge at Crystal Lake park.” 

Marianne smiled with an approving nod. “I love that park.” 

Bog blushed looking down, his fingers rubbing non-existent crumbs off the table. “So do I.” 

Marianne nodded. “I like that as our first kissing spot.” 

Dawn narrowed her eyes looking at the two of them before she nodded looking at the notebook again. “So, when did you first sleep together?” 

“WHAT?” Marianne and Bog asked at the same time and loudly, drawing a few stares from other diner patrons. 

Dawn smirked as she looked at them both. “Hey, you guys need to figure this stuff out.” 

“Why? My Mam will never ask…” Bog started to say, but Dawn interrupted him. “She will too, maybe not that directly, but she will...trust me.” Dawn narrowed her eyes. 

Marianne paled, her cheeks rosy at the same time, but she said softly. “My apartment.” 

Dawn glanced over at her sister. “Your apartment?” 

Marianne nodded. “It was a snowy night, I didn’t want him to drive home...and…” 

Dawn grinned. “Oh, I like it! You made the first move!” She scribbled down the information. “All right, now when did you ask her to marry you?” Dawn glanced at Bog. 

Bog frowned in thought before he smiled. “It was on Valentine’s Day, a little typical I know, but I couldn’t help myself.” 

Marianne giggled blushing. “Did you bring me flowers and chocolates?” 

“Yes, but I took you back to the spot of our first kiss and asked you there.” Bog grinned at her. 

Marianne sighed softly. “That is so romantic.” 

Bog blushed looking down at the table. 

Dawn narrowed her eyes at the two of them before she continued. “Okay, so do you live together yet?” 

Bog and Marianne exchanged a look, but Dawn sighed. “You two…” She sighed and shook her head before writing down. “...yes, you are living together. Marianne moved in six months ago.” She wrote this down before she asked. “Children, have you discussed that yet?” 

Marianne looked at Bog and replied. “Two?” 

Bog smiled and nodded. “Yes, maybe three and a dog.” 

Marianne giggled. “I would like to name a boy after my father, Dagda.” 

Bog grinned. “Oh hey I like that name. If we have a daughter I would love to name her after my Aunt Catriona. She was my father’s sister, a really wonderful woman. She died a few years back.” 

Marianne reached across the table and took Bog’s hand. “I like it, it's a beautiful name. How did she…?” she asked and Bog said softly. “Car accident a few months after I moved to the States.” 

Marianne was forced to release Bog’s hand when the waitress came over with their orders, placing a large burger with tater tots in front of Bog, a chicken sandwich in front of Dawn with fries, and a large caesar salad in front of Marianne. 

Dawn was going over their notebook and tapping the edge with her pen. “I’m not sure what else we need to know...do you snore?” She looked over at Bog while he was putting ketchup on his plate. He frowned. “Don’t think so.” 

Marianne was mixing her salad. “I don’t.” 

Dawn made a face. “Liar, she does too--especially if she is stuffy.” 

Marianne gasped. “Dawn, I do not!” 

“You do too.” Dawn grinned. 

Bog chuckled picking up his burger. “I bet it's cute.” 

Marianne blushed, but Dawn shook her head. “It isn’t! It's like a train and a buzzsaw are having an argument!” 

Marianne glared at her sister. “Dawn!” 

Dawn laughed, setting the notebook down. “So what’s your hometown like?” 

Bog chewed thoughtfully before he swallowed. “Kirkcudbright is a fishing town, though it’s also called an artist’s town since a lot of painters, textile artists, embroiderers, ceramicists, photographers, etchers, printmakers, sculptors, encaustic artists, willow makers and a lot more all work in or around the town. There’s an artists’ collective nearby too. My Mam paints, but my Da is a fisherman. They met when she was in Scotland to paint.” Bog took a sip of his drink, looking thoughtful. “There are a lot of galleries and a few museums there you both might like.” 

Marianne looked intrigued. “An artists’ town? Wow…” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, I learned to paint and do pottery, but I was never very good at either. Hell I tried weaving once, but that was a royal mess.” He shrugged. “Though I still paint once in a while...” 

Marianne blinked. “Really? You’ll have to show me.” 

Bog blushed. “Yeah…maybe.” 

Dawn piped up. “You’ll have to show her because you guys live together, remember?” 

Bog turned bright red and took another sip of his drink with a slight nod. “While we’re in Scotland, I’ll take your on a tour of the town, maybe we can go out on my Da's boat if you want.” 

Dawn looked at Marianne. “Oh that sounds fun!” 

Marianne took a bite of her salad and nodded. “It does.” 

Dawn grinned. “This is going to be so much fun!” 

* 

Their small group left for Scotland a couple of days later. 

Bog flew them all first class (again making Marianne wonder just how much money Bog had) which made the flight rather pleasant. Bog and Marianne spent several hours talking about their childhoods, sharing stories and getting to know each other. 

Dawn listened and watched with a smile the entire time, her eyes darting back and forth between them. 

Their plane landed in Glasgow on a chill morning. From there Bog was planning on renting a car for them to make the drive to his hometown. Bog had told them that from Glasgow it would be another two hour drive to Kirkcudbright and their hotel where he had rented them two rooms, one for him and one for the sisters. 

The three of them were tired as they made their way off the plane with their carry-ons. 

Bog yawned as they walked. “You want to stop and grab some breakfast before we make the drive?” 

Marianne nodded with some enthusiasm. “That sounds great.” 

Dawn grinned. “Ooh can we get a real Scottish breakfast? I was looking online and it looks great!” 

Bog had just started to reply when they all heard a woman’s voice yell across the airport, cutting through all the regular noise of the airport like a knife. 

“BOG!! There’s my mo luran!!” 

Bog stopped moving. “No,” he hissed and turned. 

Marianne and Dawn followed Bog’s gaze to see a short woman with a head of wild and unruly red hair that flew around her head like it was used to being constantly windswept, wearing a pair of jeans and a thick green sweater who was running across the airport, with her arms out, forcing people out of her way or else be knocked on their ass. Following behind the crazed looking woman was a very tall, older man walking slowly behind her, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans with a head of snow white hair, long sharp nose, high sharp cheekbones, and eyes so blue that Marianne and Dawn could see them from where they stood. There was no mistaking--the man had to be Bog’s father, the two of them looked so much alike. The woman, who finished her run across the airport, slammed into Bog hard enough that she nearly toppled him over, had to be Bog’s mother. 

“Oh a bhobain!! I’m so happy to see you!!” Bog’s mother wrapped her arms tight around him. Dawn and Marianne watched with amused expressions, but no sooner had his mother wrapped Bog in a tight embrace than she released him and turned to look at Marianne. 

“Oh, my darling girl!!” Griselda slammed into Marianne wrapping her arms around her. “I’m so happy to finally meet you in person!!!” 

Marianne yelped in surprise; the woman’s embrace was way stronger than Marianne would have expected. 

By this time the older man had caught up. He smiled at his son, pulling Bog into an embrace. Bog was a head taller than his father, though he leaned in to hug his father. “Da, what are you guys doing here?” 

His father took a step back. “You know your Mam, she wouldn’t hear of you and your girl driving here without family with you.” 

His mother released Marianne, transferring her affections to Dawn. “Oh, you must be Dawn!!” 

Dawn giggled hugging her back. “Hi nice to meet you.” 

Bog’s mother took a step back. “I’m Griselda and this is my husband Brodie, but please, just call us Mam and Da--you are family after all.” Griselda grabbed Marianne again in a tight hug. “You are going to be my daughter soon!” 

Marianne winced as she was squeezed hard by Bog’s mother. 

Bog looked confused. “I thought we were just going to meet you guys at the house tomorrow?” 

Griselda made a face. “Pfftt...your Da brought the van and we can just go straight to the house. I have your rooms all made…” 

Bog jerked in surprise. “What? No Mam, remember I got us rooms at that hotel…” 

“Oh nonsense. I canceled those, you all are staying with us.” Griselda grinned. “You’re family, you can’t stay at a hotel!” 

Bog looked pleadingly at his father. 

Brodie shrugged. 

Bog’s shoulders drooped in defeat.


	2. The Family

The van smelled a little like fish. 

Bog sat uncomfortably next to Marianne, their thighs touching, in the back of the van with Dawn sitting across from them. Griselda was sitting next to her husband, but she turned around grinning. 

Bog looked around the camper van. “This is nice,” he said, his heart pounding as he tried to steer any potentially awkward questions from his mother away for the moment. He knew he couldn't avoid them forever, but he just wasn’t ready yet. He had thought he had at least another few hours, plus a stay in a hotel room to get his “act” together with Marianne, but now… 

Griselda grinned. “Aye, it is. This is that camper I was telling you about that Brutus and yer father picked out with the money you sent for his birthday. Your uncle and Da have just gone on a camping and fishing trip this weekend.” 

Brodie looked in the rearview mirror catching his son’s eyes. “Aye, the fishing was good over the weekend. Had a grand time. Yer cousins met us out there.” 

Griselda chuckled. “Yer uncle had to drive back though, yer Da was bollocksed!” 

Brodie laughed. “Hold yer tongue woman! I was not!” 

Griselda turned back to her husband and laughed. “You were too Brodie darling, you were dancing with the fairies by the time you got home.” 

Bog turned bright red, then paled. 

Dawn and Marianne giggled. 

Bog whispered to Marianne. “I’m so sorry about this.” 

Marianne giggled softly. “It’s fine Bog. Your parents seem nice.” 

Griselda turned back around, still grinning. “Bog, you okay darling? Ye look a bit peely-wally?” 

Bog shook his head with a weak smile. “No Mam, I’m fine.” 

Griselda frowned slightly, but quickly changed subjects. “So tell me, have you two set a date yet?” 

Bog’s eyes widened, turning as big as saucers. They hadn’t talked about making up a date! He opened his mouth, all the blood draining from his face, but Marianne spoke up as she reached over to lay her hand over his hand, which was resting nervously on his thigh. Bog rotated his hand to hold hers and Marianne intertwined her fingers with his; she gave his hand a quick squeeze before she answered. “No we haven’t, Mrs. King.” 

“Oh call me Griselda please, or Mam--Mam would be better since yer going to be my daughter.” Griselda grinned happily. “Oh a daughter! You know Bog is my only child. Hah, well of course you know that! I’ve been waiting so long for him to find a fine young woman to be his wife.” The older woman sighed with a broad smile. “I was hoping he would have grandbabies before I died.” 

Brodie chuckled. “You won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, my girl.” 

Griselda gave her husband the sweetest look. Marianne smiled. It was clear as day that Bog’s parents were deeply in love, in the small looks they kept exchanging, the small touches. Brodie kept reaching out to brush Griselda’s hand or her hair while she would reach over and squeeze his knee. It was really lovely, Marianne decided. 

Griselda barreled on. “Have you thought about getting married here? Oh it would be so lovely to have the entire family come. You both could get married down at the little church where Bog’s father and I tied the knot!” Griselda clapped her hands. “Oh, it would be so beautiful! You could tie the knot in spring just as the flowers around the church are opening up. Oh! Or summer would be lovely too.” 

Marianne paled for a moment, caught off guard, but she quickly recovered. 

“Well, we’ll have to discuss it.” She smiled at Bog who simply nodded, though he looked panicked. He looked so lost that he pulled at her heartstrings. The poor man loved his mother, but had no idea how to deal with her, and then to be the only child on top of it! Marianne was certain that Griselda loved her son deeply, but she was a bit like a train. In the few minutes in the older woman’s company Marianne could see why Bog had felt that lying was his best option. She wondered briefly if she would do the same thing with her parents (though she supposed the answer was yes because she had lied to her father about this trip. She had told him that she and Dawn were just taking a little sister vacation together, leaving out the part about her fake engagement, so she supposed lying to one’s parents was something she and Bog had in common.) Marianne didn't want Bog to worry, though. She wanted him to be able to at least sort of enjoy his visit home, so she squeezed his hand reassuringly and decided she would help him as much as possible for the duration of their ‘vacation.’ 

Griselda grinned, her eyes darting to their joined hands. “Buíochas le Dia! I forgot to ask to see the ring!” 

Marianne smiled, releasing Bog’s hand and held her hand out while Griselda leaned around her seat to take the younger woman’s hand. Brodie glanced sideways at his wife. 

“Careful there girlie!” He laid his hand on his wife’s thigh. Griselda ignored her husband reaching past Dawn to grasp Marianne’s hand and examine the ring. She smiled brightly looking over at her son. “That’s a very pretty stone Bog my love. You did good.” Griselda released Marianne’s hand. “It’s lovely. My boy apparently has taste in both rings and women.” 

Marianne blushed and beamed. “It is beautiful isn’t it? Thank you.” 

Marianne looked over at Bog--noting his reddened cheeks--as she added. “He got down on one knee and everything.” 

Griselda gasped. “Oh Bog dear!! How romantic!” 

Marianne continued (since this was something they had agreed on.) “It was on a bridge at our favorite park where we shared our first kiss.” Marianne gazed at Bog softly, taking his hand again. He turned to look at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. He wrapped his hand around hers and brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles. She stared back at him. His eyes were so blue, and the gesture was so tender she had to wonder why on earth this man was single. 

Marianne’s thoughts were disturbed when Griselda sighed. “Oh my dear, that is so romantic!!” 

Brodie chuckled. “Proud of you boy. That was a beautiful proposal.” 

Bog blushed looking down. “Ah, thanks Da. Marianne...Marianne brings out the romantic in me.” 

Griselda turned and flopped back in her sit with a clap of her hands. “Oh I knew ya had it in you Bog! You were always such a romantic when you were a child.” Griselda turned back around to Marianne. “He used to write these sweet little poems and sit out by the loch to paint. Have you seen his paintings?” 

Marianne panicked for a moment before she came up with a reply. “Bog hasn’t really shown me his paintings. He’s still so shy.” 

She glanced sideways at Bog who had paled, but nodded adding. “Aye, my boy is shy.” Griselda frowned at her son. “Well, you should do one while you’re here darling. Show Marianne how talented you are. I never did understand why he didn’t become a painter like his mother.” 

Bog muttered. “Because I ain’t that good Mam and you can’t make money painting.” 

Griselda started to reply when Brodie spoke up. “Well, yer great grandda will be happy to see you son.” His wife gave him a dirty look, but settled down (at least for now). 

Bog sighed, happy for the change of topic, both from his painting and his non-existent relationship with Marianne. “It’ll be nice to see him. How’s he doing?” 

Brodie smiled. “He can still drink me under the table and he gets out occasionally to go fishing, head over to the pub. Takes his walks, though yer Papa is trying to convince him to give up his little house and move in with him and your Nana, but he’s stubborn.” 

Marianne asked softly. “Your great grandfather still lives on his own?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye. He still lives in the little house he built for my great grandmother when they got married.” 

Marianne gasped. “That’s so sweet.” 

Dawn murmured. “Oh wow.” 

Griselda turned around again to address Marianne. “So, tell me about your family.” She glanced at Dawn. “And I’m guessing yer single?” 

Dawn giggled and nodded. “Yep, but I’m looking.” 

Griselda reached out to pat Dawn’s shoulder. “Well I’m sure I could find you a fine lad. Bog’s cousin Sunny is single and he’ll be at the house for the celebrations. Nice young man, very handsome.” 

Dawn perked up with actual interest. “Really?” 

Griselda nodded. “Aye, he’s a musician, a busker really, but I have no doubt the boy will be successful. Anyway, your family…” 

Marianne shrugged. “Well my father is a widower--our mother passed a few years ago so there's just me and my sister and our Dad. Uh...let’s see. Our father is retired, but he used to be a principle at the local high school where our mother was also a teacher. Dawn and I own an art gallery together…” 

Griselda interrupted. “An art gallery! Bog mentioned that...so, are you both artists?” 

Marianne laughed lightly. “Dawn’s more the artist, I dabble...but mostly I take care of the gallery, what art we show...things like that.” 

Griselda nodded. “Is your family Scottish? Irish? I wasn’t sure with your last name…” 

Bog groaned softly, but Marianne answered. “I’m not sure, I think English.” 

Griselda paused for a moment before she added. “Well, that can be forgiven.” 

“Mam!” Bog gasped, but Griselda just laughed. 

Bog struggled for a second before he posed a question he knew would keep his mother talking the entire remainder of the drive, a question that he dreaded asking but he figured it was the only way to get his mother onto a different topic before she began to ask far more personal questions. 

“Mam, why don’t you tell us the latest family gossip?” Bog asked. 

Brodie looked into the rearview, catching his son’s eyes widening his own in a familiar sign of “Oh you did it now boy.” Bog gave his father an apologetic shrug, but his father simply smirked returning his focus to the road ahead while Griselda smiled, clearly in her element, family gossip. “Well, did you hear about your cousin Iain? Now he’ll be down for the birthday party and St. Patrick’s Day dinner, but he finally moved his drag show to Glasgow, which was fine, though I don’t know about his stage name, Imp. I don’t quite understand that name. Anyhow, he met this boy down there who I don’t really like because Iain could definitely do better...anyway…” 

Bog sighed in relief settling down next to Marianne. He still held onto her hand, letting his mother drone on about the family. Marianne smiled at Bog, leaning close to whisper against his ear; the sensation sent tickles down his spine. 

“You all right?” she asked. 

Bog nodded and shrugged quietly. “Aye, just...sorry about my Mam.” 

Marianne leaned close though she doubted Griselda could hear her as Dawn was asking Bog’s mother questions about the drag shows in Glasgow. 

“Don’t be, she is sweet.” Her warm breath brushed against his ear again. 

Bog chuckled with a sidelong smile at her.. “You think so?” 

Marianne nodded then added. “Okay she is a bit, overwhelming, but I like her. She loves you a great deal.” 

Bog smiled. “Aye, I know. She’s a bit overbearing, but I’ve never once doubted that she loved me.” 

Marianne squeezed his hand. “You’re lucky to have a mother like her. I can see why you want to make her happy.” 

Bog frowned gently before he murmured. “I’m sorry about your mother.” 

Marianne shook her head. “I should have told you, but it was a long time ago.” 

He squeezed her hand. “Still. You’ve my sympathies.” 

“Thank you,” she whispered back. 

They shared a look, staring into each others eyes before they both quickly turned away. 

* 

The rest of the drive zipped by with Griselda having gone through not just Iain, but Bog’s cousin Tomas, and his girlfriend Stephanie--who had yet to get engaged--how his uncle Pare had run off and married a nurse he met while in London, along with a long list of other relatives and what they were doing--right or wrong. Marianne had no hope of keeping track of the many family members mentioned, but then they finally turned into Kirkcudbright. 

Marianne leaned across Bog’s lap to look out the window. Bog swallowed leaning back as the petite woman pressed against him. She smelled so good, he thought while looking down at her, her shoulder pressed lightly against his chest, her profile lit by the sun streaming through the window. Her soft brown hair brushed against him as she gaped out the window. The town of Kirkcudbright was a beautiful harbor town with a blend of medieval, Georgian, and Victorian buildings. She could see the river and the line of boats in the harbor as they drove by the gardens, shops, and homes. It was a beautiful town, right out of a picture book Marianne thought. 

Bog watched Marianne’s face with a smile; she looked enchanted. When they passed near the ruins of MacLellan's Castle, Marianne made a sound between a gasp and a squeak. 

“You have a castle?” She sat back just a little turning to look at Bog, her face so close...his eyes went to her lips then back to her eyes. He had to shake himself to answer her. 

He laughed softly and confirmed. “The town has a castle.” 

Marianne laughed. “I mean, you grew up near a castle?” 

Bog nodded. “ Aye, uh...I’ll ah...bring you over here for a tour?” 

Marianne grinned “That’s would be wonderful!” 

Griselda grinned. “You should bring her for a picnic lunch on the grounds Bog, maybe take her out on yer Da’s boat.” 

Bog blushed, but Marianne turned to grin at him. “I would love that.” 

Bog’s father drove the van to the edge of town, turning down a road that gave them a spectacular view of the rolling countryside that surrounded the town, driving just a short distance before he pulled up in front of a house that was situated just outside the edge of town. It was a large white farmhouse that looked as if had just come out of the Georgian era of architecture with a large iron and stone fence around the property, which held, from what Marianne could see from the van window, a decent size garden. Brodie pulled up front of the house and turning off the vehicle. 

“Here we are,” Brodie said with a smile. 

Marianne stared at the home. It looked like the sort of house you saw on postcards or in idyllic paintings of the Scottish countryside...but not a real home, not really. “This is where you grew up?” she asked in a hushed voice. 

Bog nodded. “It was built around 1750. My Da bought it right after he and my Mam got married. They added on the glass enclosed patio on the other side when I was about ten. My father, Papa and great grandfather built it over one summer…” Bog frowned and stopped himself. “Sorry…you don’t really care about that...” 

Marianne shook her head. “No, I do...it’s gorgeous!” 

Griselda opened the back causing them both to jump. “Let’s get you all inside and settled, I bet yer all tired.” She smiled. 

Dawn grinned. “Wow Bog, this place is incredible! I feel like I’m in one of those old PBS shows, you know the ones where someone gets killed and some old lady has to find the killer.” 

“Dawn!” Marianne gasped. 

Bog laughed. “Those are usually English, but yeah, I guess I can see it.” 

The three of them piled out of the van. Bog and his father went around to the back with Brodie helping Bog pull the luggage out. Griselda held the door open for them to enter the house. Bog led the way followed by Marianne, Dawn, his mother and father bringing up the rear. Bog walked down the short hall to the stairs; the living room was just beyond when he heard movement. He set the bags down and leaned around to look into the living room only to to be greeted by a chorus of…“WELCOME HOME!!” by a living room full of people. 

Bog yelped, jumping back to see nearly his entire extended family crammed into his parents’ living room. 

His mother yelled from behind him. “Surprise!!” 

Bog jumped again and spun around, then moaned loudly. “Mam, you didn’t!” 

Griselda grinned, pushing her way past everyone, shoving her son against the wall as she barreled into the living room. “Okay everyone, quiet now!!” 

She turned around and grabbed her son by the arm to haul him into the room. “Bog, tell everyone who you brought with you.” 

Bog turned to see Marianne hovering in the hall behind him with her sister while his father stood behind the two young women. He gave his son an apologetic shrug. No one stood a chance against the Irish storm that was Bog’s mother. Bog’s father had long ago learned the lesson to just let his wife do what she was going to do. It made life a lot easier. 

Bog sighed. He should have known better. There was no way his mother wouldn’t have dragged everyone together for his homecoming, especially not when he supposedly had a fiancee. Bog sucked his bottom lip in before giving Marianne an apologetic look. 

Marianne frowned, though the expression was only fleeting. Poor Bog, she thought. He looked like he had just stepped in front of a firing squad! Marianne smiled and nervously walked over to him to take his hand. She was not going to leave him standing there to face his family alone; she had agreed to pretend to be his fiancee and that was exactly what she was going to do. 

Marianne turned to look at the people gathered to greet them. Bog had told her about his family--a little--explained that they were a big group, loud, liked to eat, drink and curse, but they were all good people. He had said he had a large family, but she hadn’t really appreciated exactly how big Bog had meant. Her family consisted of just her and her sister, no uncles or cousins, her parents both having been only children. She had always wanted a large family, but now, as she looked around the room, she felt a bit overwhelmed. There were just so many people! 

Bog squeezed her hand and Marianne laced her fingers with his, turning her brown eyed gaze to look up at him. Bog looked down at her, his expression a mix of embarrassment and a plea for understanding. She smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze. 

Bog took a deep breath, turning to the room with a smile pasted on his face. “Everyone, ah, this is Marianne, my...fiancee.” 

This was greeted by a round of cheers followed by a surge of people toward the couple, but Bog blushed putting his hand up to calm everyone down and hold them at bay--at least for a moment longer. He motioned Dawn forward. “This is her little sister Dawn.” 

Dawn waved. “Hi!” 

There was a moment of pause. Marianne stiffened, her eyes widening slightly as the people in the room all stared at them, followed by what felt like wave washing over her as suddenly there were people coming up and grabbing her, not to give her a handshake, or to simply introduce themselves. Instead Marianne found herself being pulled into full bear hugs. It wasn’t just her that was being pulled into bear hugs, she could see Bog, looking resigned to his fate, being yanked and passed around through the ring of relatives. There was nothing she could do but let herself be passed from relative to relative as people introduced themselves followed by tight, joyful hugs. Half of what was said to her Marianne couldn’t understand--their accents were thick, and some of the words had to be Gaelic, but the pure emotion in each of the people that embraced her was clear. Bog’s family was large and very loving. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but this pure welcoming happiness surprised her, even if she had no idea what was being said to her. She only caught a few names here and there, a few of the more American names stood out to her mixed with some names she knew she was going to have to learn to pronounce. It all became a bit of a blur. On the other hand, her sister Dawn was enjoying herself immensely, laughing and hugging everyone who hugged her back with just as much enthusiasm. 

After a few moments of being passed around from one relative to another, Griselda loudly announced, “Okay everyone! Let’s get some food and drink!! Brodie honey, can you take the kids’ luggage up to their rooms?” 

“Sure my girl, on it,” Brodie called back. 

Bog turned. “Maybe I should go…” 

But his mother grabbed his arm. “No, no, Bog yer father ain’t so feeble he can’t take a few bags up some stairs. Come on now, I made your favorite, neeps and tatties, some bangers and I even cooked up some salmon yer father brought home. Your Aunt Plum made some of her soda bread you always liked, and your Aunt Hattie brought from fresh made shortbread.” She patted her son on the stomach. “Yer too thin Bog, you need to eat.” She muttered, “Never could get any meat on yer bones.” She smiled turning to Marianne. “You have trouble getting this boy to eat enough?” 

Marianne paled for a moment before she answered. “Well, yeah, I’ve been trying.” 

Bog flushed red, glancing at Marianne over his mother’s head while his mother rattled on. “He eats well, but never could get him to gain any weight. Tall and skinny that one, just like his father.” 

Griselda laughed. “Ah well, I like my King men long and lanky.” She winked at Marianne. “As I’m sure you understand.” 

Marianne blushed bright red while Bog’s mother laughed and Bog turned pale and held back a cough. “Come along, You need to eat too sweetheart.” Griselda gave Bog and Marianne a slight shove toward the kitchen before she turned her attention to Dawn. “Oh Dawn, come here sweetie. I want you to meet Bog’s cousin Sunny.” She grabbed Dawn by the hand, pulling her through the crowd at the same time the older woman yelled. “SUNNY! Get yer behind over here!!” Griselda yelled motioning over the heads of some people. 

Dawn looked over but she didn’t see anyone until the people in the room began to part for a young man who stepped forward. She tried to school her features, but inside she was screaming when she saw him. “OH MY GOD!! He is so CUTE!!!” her inner voice squealed. Dawn could feel her eyes growing large as she took him in. She forced herself to be still, but it was an effort. 

Griselda smiled still holding Dawn’s hand. “Dawn, this is Sunny King, he’s Uncle Brutus and Aunt Hattie’s eldest son. Sunny--this is Dawn, she’s Marianne’s little sister.” 

Sunny smiled and Dawn felt her body go all weird and numb. His skin was a warm tawny color sprinkled with light brown freckles and his eyes, oh his eyes Dawn thought with a pleased sigh, were a gorgeous shade of light golden brown. He had long, light brown hair that brushed his shoulders, hair she could imagine running her fingers through. She tried not to stare, but he was so beautiful. 

“Hi,” she said awkwardly. 

Sunny blushed and lifted a hand to wave. “Hi.” 

Sunny looked down at his shoes afraid that if he looked back up at the beautiful, blonde American girl he would look stupid because his mouth would be hanging open. He had seen a lot of pretty women, but this was the first time he had seen someone just so...beautiful, someone who should be on a magazine cover. Her hair was like sunshine, her eyes like the sky on a wispy spring day. His eyes widened as the words for a song began to form in his mind...he looked back up at Dawn. He had to write a song about her. He had to. 

Griselda grinned mischievously when she saw the way Dawn and Sunny were looking at one another like they wanted to take a bite out of each other. Ooo...now she might be getting a double wedding!! That would be so grand she thought and Hattie would be so pleased to get her son married. And who knew? They might all have grandkids by this time next year if the cards were in their favor! 

Griselda stepped back, her mind filled with planning weddings and the sound of laughing babies. 

* 

In the kitchen, the table and counters were heavy with a variety of dishes. Everyone was grabbing plates, filling them up buffet style while standing around and eating. Bog picked up a plate, handed it to Marianne before he picked up his own. 

He smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I mean, I should have known I guess, but I honestly didn’t think my Mam would have the family here yet…” A small frown crooked his lips and brow. 

“Though I don’t see my great grandfather here...” Bog turned to look as if his great grandfather would suddenly appear. 

Marianne began filling her plate beside Bog. “It’s fine, Bog, really. Your family seems really nice.” 

Bog blushed. “Yeah, I suppose, but you should see them when football is on.” He shook his head with a smile. “It can be a little crazy.” 

Marianne chuckled softly when someone shouted. “Hey, here comes the old bastard!” 

Bog cringed and turned around to see his great grandfather, Paden King. 

Marianne turned, watching as people she had yet to meet, an older woman and man helped an even older man into the room. The man was thin, bent, using a cane to help him move slowly. He wore a light brown sweater and jeans, his hair thick, but white as snow, his sharp features covered in wrinkles. Marianne could instantly see the resemblance between Bog, his father, the old man helping him and the ancient looking man. 

Everyone cheered when they saw the older man who yelled in a clear voice laced with humor. “Oh fook off, the lot of ya.” 

Everyone laughed in response. 

Bog cringed again, but motioned to the older couple helping the much older man. “That’s my Papa and Nana King and my great grandfather King.” 

Marianne giggled. “I gathered.” 

The patriarch of the King family wobbled into the room looking around. “He flew his arse all the way back here to see me, so where’s me great grandson and his girl??” 

The old man looked around, his eyes landing on Bog and Marianne, and a bright smile spread across his face. “Ah there ya are, ya little bastard! Get over here and give yer grandda a squeeze!” 

Bog smiled and set his plate down to hurry over to his great grandfather, bending down nearly in half to hug the stooped over elderly man. 

“It’s nice to see ya sean-seanair,” Bog said with affection. 

The older man laughed. “Bet yer surprised to see me still kickin, eh boy?” 

Bog laughed as he stood up again. “Nah, you’ll outlive us all.” 

The old man laugh before pointing his cane at Marianne. “This be the girl?” 

Bog blushed again, but Marianne hurried over after setting her plate next to Bog’s. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said with a smile putting out her hand. 

Bog’s great grandfather smacked her hand away. “None of that girl, give us a squeeze, yer part of the King family now.” The old man pulled Marianne into a rather powerful hug considering his age and the fact that he looked fragile. 

Marianne hugged him back. The old man smelled of cigars and whiskey, which she found rather pleasant. 

“Seanair, ah…” He motioned at Dawn who quickly came over. “This is Marianne’s sister, Dawn.” 

Dawn smiled brightly. “Hey!” 

The older man laughed. “Oh ain’t you just a ray of sunshine.” 

Dawn giggled and gave the man a tight hug. 

Bog motioned to the older couple. “Nana, Papa this is Marianne and her sister Dawn.” 

The older woman smiled. “You girls can call me Grandma Alice and he’s Alfie.” She motioned at her husband. 

Marianne smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. 

Grandma Alice hugged her. “Oh it's so nice to meet you!! We were all so happy to hear that you were engaged to our dear Bog.” 

Marianne blushed as she was passed to Grandpa Alfie who hugged her while his wife hugged Dawn. “I hope we get to attend the wedding,” Alfie said with an affectionate squeeze. 

Grandpa Paden laughed then looked at the crowd of family members. “All right ya fookin lot, who’s gonna get me a drink and some scran? Ya’ll gonna let a old man die? I’m starving!” He turned his attention to Bog and Marianne. “Now, I want to hear the whole fooking story, how you met, why a pretty girl like you fell for me great grandson.” He leaned close to Marianne. “That boy needs a good woman. He’s a good catch even if’n he don’t see it himself.” He smiled at her. “Good on you for seeing it.” 

Marianne blushed brightly. “Bog is very sweet.” 

“Well I’m glad the two of you came home fer me birthday, this may be the last of ‘em.” Grandpa Paden laughed. 

Bog paled. “Haud yer wheesht Seanair!” 

The old man laughed again just as one of the many family members brought the old man a glass of whiskey. He held it up with a grin. “Though I might just be pickled instead of dead.” 

Bog frowned slightly, but his great grandfather simply laughed. 

Alfie laughed. “Aye, aye, yer Seanair’s always a little steamin!” 

Paden laughed. “Ah, yer bum’s oot the windae Alfie. I can hold me whiskey better than any of you in here!” 

Marianne smiled at Bog as his family settled in, talking, laughing and clearly enjoying each others company. Bog smiled back at her shyly. 

* 

By the time the impromptu party broke up, it was late. Bog, Marianne and Dawn were exhausted. They had repeated several times their story about how they had met, how Bog had asked her to marry him, if they had set a date, had she picked out a dress, and whether or not her family was Scottish. By the time the family had filed out, several of them were drunk and Bog’s grandfather had been singing very loudly as he was escorted out. 

“Hark when the night is falling 

Hear! hear the pipes are calling, 

Loudly and proudly calling, 

Down through the glen. 

There where the hills are sleeping, 

Now feel the blood a-leaping, 

High as the spirits 

of the old Highland men!!!” 

Marianne and Dawn were in the kitchen with Griselda while Bog was helping his father and grandparents get his great grandfather into the car. 

“Can we help clean? Just point us where you…” Marianne began, but Griselda cut her off. “No no dear, you all should head up to bed.” She patted both young women on the shoulder. “Ya both need yer beauty sleep. Did I hear correctly Dawn my dear, but are you and Sunny going out tomorrow?” 

Dawn blushed bright red when Marianne turned to look a her with an amused expression. “Oh, this is the first I’m hearing of this.” 

Dawn giggled. “Sunny asked to take me to town, show me around. He is going to town to pick up some party supplies anyway...” The blonde blushed brighter. 

Griselda beamed. “Sunny is a good boy. He is picking up a few things for Seanair’s party on Saturday. You should get some sleep and I’ll send you off with a big breakfast. Now, what about you and Bog?” Griselda turned to look at Marianne expectantly as Bog came back in and hollered. “Mam don’t be bothering Marianne!” He stepped into the kitchen with his father behind him. 

Griselda waved her son off. “I wasn't doing any such thing. I was just asking if you two had plans for tomorrow.” 

Bog blushed a little and shrugged, hesitant to give his answer. “Not really…” 

Griselda smiled. “You know, you should take her out on the boat. Yer father just had the Primrose cleaned. It would be perfect time to take her out for a sail.” 

A small smile touched Bog’s lips as he looked over at Marianne. “Would you like to go sailing?” 

Marianne smiled at him and nodded. “I would.” 

Griselda clapped her hands. “Well there. Now, all of you up to bed. Brodie and I can handle the kitchen. Shoo!” 

Bog frowned. “Mam, about staying here, I think…” 

Griselda pierced her son with an icy glare. “Now, you are not staying in no damn hotel, Bog King. You and your girl are staying right here, with family. Now I put you both in Bog’s old room, and Dawn dear, you have the guest room down the hall from them. Now Bog’s room has its own bathroom, as does the guest room, had Brodie put that in after the accident with your cousin Lyle and his girl when they stayed with us.” Bog’s parents laughed together while Bog looked rather uncomfortable. 

“Now, you lot just head on upstairs and I’ll see you all in the morning for a nice hearty breakfast.” Griselda smiled reaching up to grab her son’s face in her hand and kiss him loudly on the cheek. She then grabbed Marianne, kissing her on both cheeks followed by Dawn. Brodie gave his son a firm hug before giving Marianne and Dawn a fatherly one armed hug. “Sleep well.” He leaned close to his son and whispered. “And don’t worry about being quiet son, your mother and I sleep pretty soundly.” He winked at his son while Bog’s face drained of color--for perhaps the dozenth time that day. 

Bog swallowed. He could get through the week, he was certain. “Well, ah, you guys can just follow me…” 

Marianne quietly nodded, looking nervous while Dawn grinned and even moved with a little skip in her step. 

* 

The walls along the stairwell were decorated with pictures. As Marianne walked up behind Bog, her eyes went from ogling Bog’s backside to examining the pictures. She saw the first image, a wedding portrait of Bog’s parents. She grinned. Griselda had been a beautiful, tiny woman with long red hair while Bog’s father was tall and slender, looking like a slightly rougher version of his son. Her gaze followed the photographs, which went from a few single images of his parents, to Griselda pregnant, to holding a little baby. 

Marianne was able to watch Bog grow as she made her way along the stairwell, from images of a little baby with serious blue eyes, growing into an awkward, tall and slender little boy with a large pointed nose, thick black hair and the same gorgeous summer blue eyes, just as serious as the baby’s eyes had been. She saw snapshots of him, a tall, lanky five year old boy in shorts with scraped up knees, to another image of Bog at what looked to be eight or so years old, already taller than his mother, with longish wet black hair in his eyes on a fishing boat wearing rubber boots and a thick yellow coat, a bright smile spread across his face. He sported crooked teeth and dimples, holding up a large fish up while behind him stood his father, grandfather and great grandfather, four generations of King men on a boat together, all ocean wet and laughing, looking on with pride at the little boy in front of them. This was followed by an image of Bog with a black eye, and bloody lip looking proud of himself, another was a photo of Bog standing by an easel, his t-shirt and jeans covered by a paint splattered apron, his mother beside him, with a painting of the castle they had passed earlier that day. Marianne could tell that the painting was beautifully rendered, even in the photograph. The image showed young Bog--he had to be around thirteen--covered in paint streaks across his cheeks and clothing. His blue eyes were bright and his smile was so cute. The next few images showed Bog steadily growing becoming taller and taller until he was towering over his father by age sixteen. He looked awkward, slouching, shy, and his hair hung well below his shoulders; it was clear to Marianne he was trying to use his hair to hide his face, his clothing too big for him and too short increased Bog’s awkwardness, but Marianne thought he still looked so sweet and endearing. She saw him grow into a man, his parents standing with him in front of what looked like a university, Bog wearing a robe and holding up what had to be a diploma. And the last image was of Bog in a suit at an airport, waving before he boarded a flight. 

Marianne swallowed. He had what looked to be a wonderful childhood. The images had been littered with a background of family figures, all surrounding a young man with love. She touched the last image on her way up the stairs before turning her attention back to following Bog. 

Bog walked down the carpeted hallway to the last room. “Ah, this is the guest room.” He smiled at Dawn and opened the door for her. The room inside was painted a soft blue, all the furniture inside was blue and white, and the window provided a view into the back garden. The room looked both comfortable and cheerful. 

Dawn walked with a smile on her face, as bright as the room. “Ooh this is really nice!” 

She spun around to give Bog a quick hug. “Thanks for bringing me. I love your family,” she said happily. 

Bog hugged her back awkwardly, but his smile was genuine. “Well, I hope you feel that way by the end of the week.” 

Dawn laughed. “Oh poo, I’m sure I will! Good night!” 

She waved closing the door. 

Bog frowned and led Marianne back down the hall, walking like a man on his way to the chair. They walked past a couple of doors until he arrived at his room. He pushed opened the door, stepping aside the let Marianne into the room. 

She stepped inside and thought the room looked cozy. The walls had been painted a warm grey with a soft shade of beige carpet. The bed that was against the right hand wall was a full size (which made Marianne wonder how poor Bog had ever slept in it, with his long legs) with a thick light grey and blue comforter, several pillows, and what looked to be a homemade quilt across the foot of the bed. There was an open door to the left revealed a bathroom, that continued the theme of grey and beige. On the wall next to the door was a large, dark wood wardrobe, while near the window were a wooden desk and a dresser. The walls were decorated with a couple of paintings; one of which was the painting she had seen in the photograph on the stairs. She stepped closer and saw Bog’s name at the bottom right hand corner. 

Bog walked in quietly behind her and closed the door. He saw her looking around and said softly, “My parents redecorated after I moved out to use it as a guest room too. They just continue to call it my room. When I lived here, there were a few more movie posters on the walls.” 

Bog walked over to Marianne, rubbing his hands nervously on his pants legs, and then the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure what he thought she might do, hit him? Yell at him? He didn’t want her upset with him, not just because he was asking her to keep up this stupid lie of his, but because he liked her--he liked Marianne a great deal--and while he knew this stunt had ruined any chance he might have had (which he knew had been slim to nothing anyway) he didn’t want to lose her possible friendship. He liked her so much and Dawn was a joy. If he had a sister, he would have liked her to be like Dawn. He swallowed, hs eyes suddenly stinging. He didn’t want to lose their budding friendship and he was afraid their plan to have separate rooms (now ruined by his mother) would be the cause of him losing her. 

“I’m so sorry about this...I didn’t think my Mam would…” he trailed off softly. 

Marianne turned to smile at him. “It’s fine Bog.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Really, she loves her son, she wants her son at home with his fiancee, and I can’t see anything wrong with that.” 

Bog frowned with a small nod, then swallowed nervously. “I’ll...ah sleep on the floor. There should be some extra blankets in the linen closet…” 

Marianne frowned. “Bog, we are two grown adults. I think we can handle sharing a bed.” 

Bog chewed his bottom lip. “Are you sure? I mean, I won’t touch you I swear. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable…” 

Marianne smiled giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure.” 

Bog smiled gently at her and whispered. “You are...I…” He took a deep breath. “Thank you, for everything.” 

Marianne smiled. “It’s fine. I like your family.” 

Bog laughed softly. “Why don’t you go shower and I’ll get the bed pulled back. Do you want any tea?” 

Marianne smiled. “Tea would be lovely. Thank you Bog.” 

He smiled and started to head out. “Oh, there should be towels in there too.” 

She nodded. “Thank you.” 

* 

Marianne took a nice hot shower, trying not to think too much about sharing a bed with Bog. Her mind dwelled on what it might be light to have her head on his chest, his arms around her. She knew he smelled good. She shook herself and focused on washing her hair. 

After her shower, Marianne came out of the bathroom dressed in her pajamas--a set of pink pajamas with black polka dots, a little pair of boxers shorts and a babydoll top with a sweetheart neckline. She had thought about seeing if she had a t-shirt to wear instead (she hadn’t been counting on sharing a bed), but decided she was being silly. (And perhaps in the back of her mind she was thinking that she knew she looked cute in these and maybe wanted a certain blue-eyed Scotsman to see her in them.) 

She walked out of the bathroom, carrying her dirty clothes when she stopped short. 

Bog had pulled the bed back. He had also brought up a tray with a teapot (currently under a hand knitted tea cozy, with two tea cups each on a saucers along with a plate of shortbread, a small sugar pot, and a tiny pitcher of cream.) He had set the tray on the bed, and as she had walked in, he was taking his shirt off. Marianne stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, watching as he took his shirt off and bundled it up before doing a basketball-like throw where the shirt landed by the door to the bedroom. There she saw that he had tossed the shirt into a laundry basket. She swallowed and stared at his back where a large dragon dominated his entire back, its body twisted into a Celtic knot. In one hand the dragon held a thistle, while in the other an Irish harp. Her eyes followed the design that flowed down the smooth line of his spine. From there she gazed at the way his pants rode low on his hips. She suddenly felt very hot. 

Bog turned around at that moment and stopped to stare at her. She looked sexy and adorable all rolled into one, standing barefoot in the doorway, her short hair damp, holding her clothing to her chest. 

Bog smiled, but then frowned. “Oh, let me take those.” He hurried over to take her dirty clothes from her. “Mam said she was going to do a load in the morning so to just bring them down with us when we came down for breakfast. I brought a laundry hamper up--uh, Marianne?” He frowned when she didn’t answer him. “You okay?” 

She nodded, then blinked. “Yeah, ah, sure, here.” She handed him her clothing. 

He smiled taking the clothing while trying to keep his gaze on the floor. “Ah, I’m going to go ahead and shower, feel free to get into the tea.” He smiled awkwardly before he quickly grabbed a few things out of his suitcase and headed into the bathroom. 

Marianne eased herself down on the bed. “Wow,” she said softly. 

* 

A few minutes later, Bog was showered, his dark hair damp and flopping across his forehead in a way that made Marianne’s blood run hot. He wore just a pair of grey pajama pants and nothing else. His chiseled chest and stomach....were bare… 

Marianne shivered and picked up her tea. 

Bog asked softly. “I can wear a shirt if you want. I usually don’t sleep with a shirt on, but…” 

Marianne shook her head. “No, no it’s fine. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable on my account. We’re just sleeping.” She smiled, taking a large gulp of her tea. 

Bog came over and sat on the opposite side of the bed. He busied himself with making his tea, adding cream and sugar. They were both quiet, awkwardly quiet. 

Marianne finished her tea, stared into the cup. 

Bog gulped his tea. 

Both of them remained quiet for a moment before they both turned and looked at one another, saying the same time. “Ready for bed? I’m tired.” 

They stared at each other for a long second before they both laughed. Bog picked up the tea tray. “It’s been a long day.” 

Marianne nodded with a nervous laugh. “Yeah it has, I’m beat.” 

Bog chuckled. “Tha, I’ll probably sleep like the dead.” 

Together they crawled into the bed, sinking into the pillows, both of them on their backs and staring up at the ceiling. Marianne sighed as lying down finally made her realize just how tired she was. She smiled when she saw Bog yawn hard enough that his jaw cracked. 

“Ew? You okay?” Marianne asked. 

Bog laughed. “Sorry, well...ah...good night, Marianne.” 

Marianne smile softly at him. “Good night, Bog.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment before they slowly rolled over, their backs to each other. 

* 

Marianne’s dreams were filled with images of Bog, his smile, his eyes...his back...his ass… 

When she woke up she felt a little flustered and hot. The last dream she had, Bog was completely naked, though her stupid dream had fuzzed his parts. She felt a little...well, she wasn’t sure how she felt as she pulled herself into consciousness. 

She didn’t want to open her eyes. She was so comfortable, warm...that was when she realized that Bog was pressed up against her back, one of his arms was wrapped around her, tucked up under her breasts. His other arm was under her neck while she was resting against his warm arm. One of his legs was pressed against her, the other was between her legs. She had hooked one of her feet around his leg in her sleep. She was surrounded by his scent, that warm, heady masculine scent mixed with soap, clean clothes and shampoo, all of it combining to send shivers of pleasure down her spine. Marianne could feel the warmth of his skin, the hairs on his legs between her thighs where his pajama pants had ridden up… 

She could also feel the warm steady flow of his breath against her shoulder and the back of her neck, stirring her hair with a soft, gentle caress. Judging by his breathing, Bog was still asleep. 

She shifted just a little, just to get more comfortable, she didn’t want to wake him… 

Her eyes opened wide then, when she realized she felt something else...


	3. Head over Heels

That evening Griselda lay in bed next to her husband, her arms crossed over her chest in annoyance. Brodie sighed. His back was to his wife, but he could feel the annoyance rolling off of her in waves. 

He sighed again and rolled over to face Griselda. “All right girl, what’s wrong?” 

Griselda looked over at her husband. “Ye hear how quiet they are? They’re asleep, I’m sure of it!” 

Brodie frowned at his wife. “What are you getting at girl?” 

Griselda motioned at the wall across from their bed. “They’re young, in love...they should be making grandkids!” 

Brodie rolled his eyes and laughed. “My girl, it was a long day for them. They flew over here, then were immediately subjected to the family. What do you expect?” 

Griselda frowned. “That wouldn’t have stopped us.” She gave a crooked smile to her husband. “No one noticed that we had Bog just seven months after we got married.” 

Brodie grunted. “Yes they did--no one said anything.” 

Griselda sighed. “I just...I want some grandkids before I’m too old to enjoy them Brodie.” 

Brodie reached up and grabbed his wife, yanking her down on top of him. “Well how about if they’re not doing anything, we demonstrate how it's done my girl?” 

Griselda giggled. “You are such a dirty old man.” 

Brodie grinned. “You love it.” 

Griselda pulled the sheet over their heads whispering. “Mm...Aye I do...I do…” 

* 

Morning. 

Marianne laid very still. She wasn't sure what to do; at first she was shocked. (She had never spent the night with Roland at his place or he at her place. Of course now that she was thinking about it, talk about a sign! She had never felt comfortable either way, telling herself she was waiting for marriage, but now as she laid in Bog’s arms, comfortable, content really, she had to wonder if the situation had more to do with her just knowing, subconsciously that Roland wasn’t right for her.) She was not experienced with...this… 

Marianne chewed her bottom lip in thought. She could tell by how deeply Bog was breathing that he was asleep. She exhaled a tiny sigh, closed her eyes. A smile tugged at her lips as she tried to gauge size by what she was feeling pressed up against her rear. He felt fairly...big...bigger than Roland--although that wouldn’t have take a lot. She pressed her lips together, resisting the urge to giggle, though it was a real struggle. She felt like giggling a lot because her situation was just so...unusual because she couldn’t deny how nice it felt to be held so snuggly, so warmly against his chest, the way his arms were wrapped around her, the the tickle of his warm breath against the back of her neck and her hair, the heat of his...erection. She grinned and closed her eyes tight for a moment. The urge to wiggle was strong; wiggling would allow her to feel more “firmly.” (She could heard Dawn yelling with laughter. “That’s what she said!”) 

Marianne swallowed her nervous giggles, and willed herself to relax. She had just settled down, a warm, sweet drowsiness coming over her when she felt the change in Bog’s breathing and the stiffening of his arms. She frowned. Oh shit, he’s awake, she thought. Now she was in a whole new situation. She would tell Bog was panicking, she could almost feel his heartbeat picking up, racing against her back. She controlled her breathing, keeping herself relaxed. She didn’t want poor Bog to feel uncomfortable, or ashamed especially since she liked being held. She felt Bog hiss, then try slowly to extract his arms from around her. Marianne did her best to pretend she was asleep, but Bog stopped moving before he said softly, his accent slightly thicker with sleep and tension. 

“Yer awake, aren’t ye?” 

Marianne nodded. 

Bog groaned. “Oh god…” 

Marianne quickly rolled over in his arms to face him. “It’s all right Bog.” 

Bog groaned again. “I should’ve slept on the floor, I’m so sorry.” He pulled his arms back, his face pale. “I’m so sorry, Marianne. Please fergive me, I…” 

Marianne put her hands on his chest about to tell him it was all right, she didn’t mind. But as she opened her mouth to assure him that she understood and he had done nothing wrong, they both heard a hard knock on their door. Bog and Marianne frowned both raising their heads to look over at the bedroom door and heard the voice of Bog’s mother. “Bog, Marianne, you awake? I have breakfast here for you! I thought you lovebirds might like breakfast in bed this morning. If yer not decent yell now, ‘cause I’m opening the door!” 

Bog groaned, his accent thickening. “Fooking hell! I should have locked the door!” 

Bog’s bedroom door opened and Griselda stepped in carrying a tray loaded with food. Griselda stopped for a moment as Bog and Marianne sat up, both of them with rumpled hair. 

Griselda smiled. “Oh, look at the two of you!” 

Bog sighed with a shake of his head. “Mam, you can’t just walk in here like that!” 

Griselda smiled--ignoring his objection--as she came busling into the room with her tray, most of which was covered with dish towels, though Marianne could see two cups, along with two smallish teapots; it was a great deal for the short woman to carry up, but Griselda didn’t seem the least bothered by the weight of the tray. 

“Well I figured since you are going out on the boat today, you would both need a hearty breakfast. So I made sausage links, bacon, eggs, potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, baked beans, buttered toast, black pudding, and I added some cold smoked herring, porridge, and kippers.” Griselda looked proud of herself. 

Bog groaned. “Damn Mam! There’s only the two of us! This is enough to feed a blasted army!” 

Marianne glanced sideways at Bog. His horror and indignation with his mother half of which was just plain, son and mother irritation, but the other half was pure love. She could see it in his blue eyes, the tug of the smile fighting at the corner of his lips. He was irritated, but this was clearly simply another way his mother showed her love. It was pushy, sure, but clearly there was a lot of love. 

She giggled at Bog’s exasperated look, and turned her gaze to Griselda. “Thank you for breakfast--everything smells delicious.” 

Griselda came over to the edge of the bed to set the tray down across their laps. “Aw, thank you lass. At least someone was raised to be sweet and grateful.” 

Bog muttered something under his breath that Marianne didn’t quite catch, but his mother certainly did as she gave Bog a look only a mother could give. “Bog King, don’t be a dolt and don’t be speaking to yer mother with language like that.” 

Bog made a sour face at his mother as he mumbled. “I wasn’t speaking to you, Mam--I was speaking to meself.” 

Griselda shook her head with a smile, pointing at the tray, her attention already on Marianne. “Now, there is coffee and tea here too, since I wasn’t sure what a nice American girl like you would want to drink fer yer breakfast.” 

Marianne smiled as she held the tray steady. “Both are fine, thank you.” 

“Good, good--now you two eat up. Yer sister has already eaten, she’s downstairs waiting on Sunny who should be here any minute now.” Griselda grinned brightly. “Who knows, maybe we can celebrate a double wedding!” 

Bog groaned. “Mam!” 

Griselda ignored her son as she turned and headed toward the door and said over her shoulder, “Just bring the tray down with you. Oh, and leave yer dirty clothes outside yer door. I’ll take care of them today, if ye don’t mind. If you do mind dear…” She turned at the door to address Marianne. “Just leave ‘em in here and I’ll show you how to use the washer and dryer when you get back. Now, I’ve packed you a good solid lunch for the boat, it’s just waiting fer the two of you in the kitchen.” She waved before she stepped out and pulled the door closed. 

Bog dropped back against the pillows, made the tray rattle as he dropped his hands to his face and muttered behind his hands. “Fuck me.” 

Marianne giggled at his reaction, reaching over to grab the teapot Griselda had pointed to that had coffee. “You’re mother is a delight.” 

Bog spread his fingers to look at her between his long digits. “Yer kidding?” 

Marianne pulled the dishcloth off her plate and the smell of delicious food wafted over her. “Come on Bog, dig in. Everything smells so good!” 

Bog sat up with a sigh. “Mam has always been a crackpot in the kitchen.” 

Marianne noticed the bright grin on his face that made his dimples stand out and showed off his crooked teeth as he pulled off his own towel and looked down at his food with appreciation. Marianne smiled brightly as she dug into her breakfast. She watched Bog from the corner of her eyes while he ate, a smile on his face. He began to talk about fishing trips with his family, just casually filling her in about his family. He told her a sweet story of his mother and father teaching him to fish, the time he fell into the water and caught pneumonia, his grandfather and great grandfather singing drunkenly on the boat, the women in his family having a fishing competition with the men and winning...just a whole string of cute, sweet stories. She listened intently to him, asking questions or relating any similar experiences she had, all while they both devoured their breakfast with Marianne realizing that this moment... sitting in bed with Bog, eating breakfast and talking...was going to be one of her most cherished memories. The comfort of the bed, the warmth of sitting close to Bog, his hair a mess of black tangles, his unshaved face, the twinkle in his eyes as his accent thickened unconsciously while he spoke and laughed, the smile in his eyes when he listened to her speak...Yes, this was going to be a memory she would hold close. 

* 

After breakfast Bog and Marianne took turns using the bathroom and dressing. Bog told her being on the water would be cold and she might want to bring a jacket. They both wore jeans (both also greatly appreciating the way the other looked in their jeans.) Bog had pulled on a light grey-blue sweater while Marianne had on a long sleeved henley of dark purple and a brown leather jacket. Bog finished his look with a pair of combat boots...Marianne bit her bottom lip watching him tie them...it was so unfair how hot he looked. She flushed red and turned away from him so she could compose herself. 

They headed downstairs, greeted by the sound of Griselda singing softly. She was in the kitchen loading up her dishwasher and cleaning the kitchen when Bog came in carrying the tray with Marianne right behind him. 

Bog’s mother looked up with a smile at them. “Ah there you are! And look at that, you ate every bite!” Griselda grinned at Marianne. “That boy can put a meal away, but he never gains a pound! Very fretful for a mother to see yer boy so skinny.” 

Bog sighed. “Mam…” 

Marianne smiled with a soft reply. “I think Bog looks wonderful the way he is.” 

Bog turned around quickly, his eyes wide with shock, his cheeks a rosy red. Marianne’s face also turned red at her open appraisal while Griselda looked between the two of them with a grin. “Oh look at you two lovebirds, still able to make to make each other blush.” The smile was quickly followed with a frown. “Bog, why haven't you kissed your girl? I noticed that you haven’t kissed her once since you’ve been home…” 

Bog’s eyes widened in sudden fear. “What?” 

“Go on, give her a kiss.” Griselda wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “What? Give yer girl a kiss for yer Mam. Go on…” 

Marianne looked at Bog, her cheeks burning. “Ah…” 

Bog put his hands up. “Mam, really that’s…” 

Griselda sighed. “Bog, really! I didn’t raise you to be so stingy with your affection.” She turned her gaze to Marianne. “You’ve noticed, I’m sure, we are an affectionate family.” She turned back to Bog narrowing her eyes. “Now give yer girl a kiss.” 

Bog turned to look at Marianne pressing his lips together. Marianne looked at him, sucking on her bottom lip. Griselda looked between the two of them with a frown. 

Bog swallowed and stepped toward Marianne. He reached for her hand and Marianne put her hand in his, allowing Bog to gently pulling her toward him. Marianne stared up into Bog’s eyes, so blue. She knew they were blue, but...they were so vivid! How could someone’s eyes be so bright and vibrant like that, she asked herself. 

They stared at each other. 

Bog frowned. “Marianne...I…” 

Marianne reached up with one hand, sliding her fingers along his jaw and into his hair. Bog stared at her as Marianne guided him to her, felt his hand tighten in hers. Bog looked so unsure--scared actually--he made Marianne’s heart twist as she thought again that he was such a sweet man. Marianne gave him a reassuring smile just before she pushed up on her toes, her lips pressed against against his mouth. 

Bog slowly reached out to wrap his free hand around her waist gently, their bodies pressing together. Marianne’s eyes slid close the same time that Bog’s did. She opened her mouth slowly, the tip of her tongue sliding against his lips. She felt Bog’s hand on her waist tighten just before his tongue brushed against hers, light and gentle. Marianne made a small sound of pleasure and her fingers grasped his hair while her mouth opened wider. 

Bog released her hand and her waist to cup her face and deepened their kiss. His tongue caressed hers in a tender, yet passionate kiss. Her lips were soft, like pink satin, and the touch of her tongue against his sent heat racing through his body. Bog leaned into her embrace, moving his mouth over hers with care, focused on every detail of kissing her. He was aware of where that heat was going, but he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but Marianne’s mouth and tongue, her body pressed close to his… 

Marianne brought her hand up to lay against his chest, her fingers grasping his shirt. The kitchen fell away, the presence of his mother faded as they two of them kissed, lost in the sensation of their lips and tongues, his hands cupping her face, the feel of his hair against her hand. She felt a welcome burn rush through her body. She tightened her hold on him, kissed Bog deeper, her tongue sliding along his to send cascading ripples of pleasure through her body. Marianne rose up higher on her toes. 

Griselda watched with a lopsided grin on her face. “Now that's what I was talking about.” 

The sound of Griselda’s voice broke the spell that Marianne and Bog found themselves under. They didn’t step away from each other, however. Marianne still held onto Bog’s shirt, her fingers loosening in his hand to slide softly along his throat. Bog looked at her with a stunned expression. He still held her face in his hands staring down at her, his eyes moved from her mouth to her eyes while his thumbs caressed her cheeks. 

Griselda grinned before hurrying to grab a basket. “You two go and have a good time.” She shoved the basket at Bog, who barely let go of Marianne in time to grab the basket his mother shoved against Bog’s chest. He gasped as the basket mashed into his chest, nearly knocking the air out of him. 

“Now, you two have fun--there are blankets on the boat. I had your father go out and make sure the boat was ready to go this morning. Dinner's at 6:30 this evening. Your great grandda will be here and so will your grandparents. And before you ask Bog--no one else, just us.” She smiled. “Now go on you two.” 

Bog glanced sideways at Marianne. 

* 

They ended up just walking to the docks. 

They day was pleasant and neither one of them addressed the kiss, at least for the first block. 

Bog glanced sideways at Marianne for perhaps the tenth time before he said softly. “I’m sorry about that.” 

Marianne opened her mouth to reply, but that was when an older woman in overalls working with a rake in her yard nearby yelled out. “Bog King! Is that you??!!” 

Bog smiled and waved at the woman. “Hello Mrs. Sullivan! How are you?” 

Mrs. Sullivan smiled. “Oh I’m fine, just fine. And is that the pretty American girl I heard you were marrying?” 

Bog paled, but Marianne hurried over to the woman, her hand out. “Hello, I’m Marianne.” 

Mrs. Sullivan took Marianne’s hand across the low fence that surrounded her yard. “Oy, you are a pretty one. We were all beginning to worry that our Bog wasn’t going to find himself a girl, especially after that last one…” 

Bog winced. “Mrs. Sullivan please…” 

The woman smiled and continued to ignore Bog. “But I see he did himself one better. You are a pretty thing. You take care of our Bog, lass. He’s a bit rough around the edges--like all King men are--but he has a tender heart.” She patted Marianne’s hand before she released it. “Now, what are you two off to do?” 

Marianne smiled. “Bog is taking me out on the boat.” 

“Oh, out on the Primrose is he? I thought I saw Brodie heading down there, must have been to clean her up. Last time that boat was out, your Uncle Brutus got pished and was singing Caledonia like he thought he was Dougie MacLean, loud enough for the whole town could hear. Your Aunt, bless that poor woman, had to come down to get him because he passed out in the church yard and Father McKidd threatened to bury him if someone didn’t move him.” 

Bog groaned before he took Marianne’s hand, balancing the picnic basket against his hip. 

“Well, it was nice seeing you Mrs. Sullivan.” 

Mrs. Sullivan smiled. “Nice to see you, Bog dear. Tell yer mother to come by, let her know I heard from Matilda.” 

“I will Mrs. Sullivan!” Bog called over his shoulder as he steered Marianne away. 

Mrs. Sullivan called out one more time. “Are you two going to get married at the church here? Yer mother said…” 

Bog hurried on, pretending he didn’t hear her. 

“She seems nice.” Marianne grinned with a lift of her eyebrows. 

Bog groaned. “Yeah, I mean she is, but she’s a terrible gossip.” 

Marianne giggled as Bog added. “I know it sounds like it, but my family doesn’t drink that much.” 

Marianne simply giggled. Neither of them had forgotten about the kiss, but the moment to talk about it had passed and neither of them felt ready to address it. 

* 

When they neared the dock, the salty sea air smelled wonderful. Moored at the docks were numerous water craft, from luxury boats to little fishing boats to one great big bright monstrosity. Bog made a face when they walked past the far-too-large-to-be-sensible boat while Bog growling under his breath. “Fanning, that great big bawbag...” 

Marianne frowned as she took in the large boat while they walked by it. “Who’s Fanning?” 

Bog growled while they walked past. “Just this great ginger plank I went to school with--Graham Fanning. If it’s the biggest, ugliest piece of shite around, then it probably belongs to Graham fucking Fanning.” 

Marianne burst into laughter, earning her a confused look from Bog. 

“What is it?” he asked while they walked past the boat. 

“You, you’ve become very Scottish in the last few hours.” Marianne grinned at him, but Bog groaned, rolling his eyes while he blushed. “It’s the cursing...damn it. I get home and I fall right back…” 

Marianne smiled and laid her hand on his arm. “Bog it’s fine, doesn’t bother me at all. Besides, I think it’s cute.” 

Bog’s cheeks reddened. He was about to reply when they both heard his father call out. “Bog!” 

They stopped in front of a nice size boat, not nearly as big as the vessel that Bog had been cursing about, but big enough a least six or so people could be on it comfortably. Bog had told her earlier that the Primrose was a C-Kip Sea Ranger 39 Flybridge TS Cruiser (which meant nothing to her), but he had explained that the boat had a double bed on it, toilet, shower, hip bath and that his father had fitted the boat with remote controlled bow and stern thrusters, which still meant nothing to her, but now seeing the boat up close, Marianne had to admit that it was nice. 

Brodie was standing near the side, one foot on the side, his arm resting on his knee as he waved at his son and Marianne. “She’s all ready to go, gave her a good cleaning and she’s filled up. I’m guessing yer Mam told you when to be back fer dinner?” 

Bog nodded as he walked over and handed his father the basket. “She did.” 

Brodie took the basket. “Well good. Yer great grandda had something he wanted to discuss with you.” 

Bog frowned up at his father. “What’s that?” 

His father looked back down the side of the boat with a shrug. “No idea.” 

A frown settled on Bog’s features before he shrugged it off and turned with a smile toward Marianne. He held his hand out to her. She smiled and accepted his hand. They gazed at each other for a long moment, a blush creeping along their cheeks before Marianne began to climb the ladder. Brodie took her hand when she reached the top, helping her the rest of the way up, grinning when his saw his son looking at Marianne’s backside. Bog noticed his father, who then winked at his son. Bog’s cheeks turned bright red. 

“You have fishermen legs?” Brodie asked Marianne once she was on the deck. 

Marianne looked confused as Bog easily jumped over the side to land gracefully in a way that made Marianne’s insides turn to goo. He smiled at her as he brushed off his hands. 

“Da is asking if you’ve been on a boat before.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yep, my father took my sister and me fishing when we were little. On a boat,” she added. 

Brodie smiled, followed by a chuckled. “Well all right, then you should be fine lass, no boaking over the side, I just cleaned her.” Brodie gave Marianne a fatherly one armed hug around her shoulders. “Just make sure to be careful, though. The waters can look calm, but they can be rougher than you think and my Bog here tends to drive a bit wirelessly when he’s on the water. That one should have been a pirate.” 

Bog rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Aye, I think all King men are part pirate.” 

Brodie chuckled and gave Marianne and his son a saucy grin as he walked over to the ladder. “Aye, that’s what yer Mam says.” Marianne laughed out loud at the look of embarrassment that crossed Bog’s face. Brodie grabbed the side of the boat. “You kids have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. ” He winked at his son before he disappeared over the side. 

Bog cringed at his father, but once he heard his father's boots hit the dock he clapped his hands together. “So, you ready? Give you a quick tour of the Primrose, then we’ll set out?” 

Marianne smiled at him. “That sounds fantastic.” 

* 

In town, Sunny, wearing jeans and a simple black hoodie that read ‘Scotland’ across it in bold red letters, held the door open for Dawn. She had chosen to wear a pair of vertical black and white leggings and a waist cut white sweater with slip on tennis shoes. They headed inside the restaurant named The Selkie. On the outside, the building looked like a simple cottage with a well-cared for garden that surrounded the house with colorful flowers, growing vegetables, a gravel path that led up to the front door with a hand painted sign that held the place name in dark red letters. Dawn thought that it looked quaint and lovely. When Sunny opened the door for her, that feeling continued inside with low lighting, hardwoods floors, small intimate tables on which sat glass vases holding fresh flowers from the garden, and wicker chairs. 

A young woman with blonde dreadlocks and wearing a pale pink apron hurried over with a smile brightening her face. “Hey Sunny! OH! And who’s the pretty girl with you?” 

Sunny blushed, as did Dawn, but Sunny smiled at the woman. “Lisa, this is Dawn. She’s the little sister of Bog’s fiancee.” 

Lisa gasped with delight. “I heard the news that Bog had finally found himself someone! Jason and I were so delighted!” Lisa turned to Dawn. “It’s a pleasure. Bog and I went to school together. I was beginning to think the poor man was never going to find someone...I don’t know what Griselda would have done if that happened, would have broken her heart, though. She’s so worried about that boy of hers being taken care of when she’s gone.” Lisa grinned at Dawn. “You better be careful miss, Griselda is gonna have her eye on getting Sunny here hitched next.” Lisa then gasped. “Oh sorry! Listen to me chatter on. Let’s get you two a table.” 

Dawn frowned. “Is the whole town invested in Bog getting married?” 

Sunny shrugged. “Pretty much. The King family has been here a long time. Everyone--well, almost everyone--loves them and Bog is a really good guy. He sends money home every month to take care of not just his immediate family, but his extended family too. When he lived here he was pretty gruff, but it was all an act and everyone knew it. He’s the type of guy that would come over to help fix your roof after a storm and do it for free. Or there was this time he helped Old man Mullan dig a new spot to put in a new septic tank. The only thing he asked for in return was an ale at the end.” 

Dawn grinned. “I knew my sister had picked a good one.” 

Sunny smiled as he pulled her seat out for her once Lisa had led them over to a nice seat by the window. 

Once they were seated Lisa grinned handing Dawn a plastic covered menu. “Sunny here doesn’t need a menu; he orders the same every time.” 

Sunny looked indignant. “I do not.” 

Lisa chuckled. “You do too. Starting to fall into a pattern.” 

Sunny made a sour look that had Dawn laughing. 

Lisa grinned looking between the two of them. “So what would you like to drink? We have coffee, tea, all the American fizzy drinks, plus our own...” She grinned. “And Mary made some fresh lemonade this morning because Gerald brought some lemons with him when he got back yesterday.” 

Sunny glanced at Dawn. “What would you like?” 

Dawn beamed. “Lemonade sounds great.” 

Sunny held up two fingers. “Make it two Lisa.” 

The young woman nodded and hurried off. 

Dawn smiled at Sunny before glancing at her menu. They had spent their morning going all over town, first with an impromptu tour, followed with purchasing party supplies. Sunny had pointed out the sights, telling her jokes and making her heart thump hard with excitement. He was cute, more than cute, she had thought more than once; he was handsome. She loved the way his eyes danced when he talked about the town or his music, how close he was with his family, how much he loved and admired his cousin Bog…and she wasn’t afraid to admit that in the course of a few hours, she had a crush on him. 

As they waited for their drinks Sunny pointed at the menu. 

“Everything here is fantastic, but I highly recommend half shepherd's pie with monticello salad.” Sunny smiled at her, and Dawn’s insides went all funny. 

“Is that what you usually order?” she asked. 

Sunny blushed, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Busted.” 

Dawn laughed softly. “Then that sounds fine by me.” 

Lisa returned a moment later with their drinks and quickly (with a laugh, telling Sunny he had a convert to his shepherds pie addiction) before she hurried off to place their order. 

Sunny took a sip of his drink. He was doing his best not to come off as nervous and...well...like a dork. He really liked Dawn. She was bubbly, cute, talented, fun. He hated the fact that she was only here for a week, but he was hoping that, just maybe, she would want to stay in contact with him after she left. He had never met a girl like her before...there was something magical about her. “So, you said you paint...I was wondering, if I bought you some supplies, would you like to paint during your stay? I mean there are a lot of beautiful places around here and I wouldn’t mind driving you anywhere you want to go…” Sunny offered, trying to keep the nervous tremor out of his tone, slowly turning his perspiring glass of lemonade while he spoke. He didn’t want to seem pushy, but the thought of watching her paint, the very idea gave him goosebumps. Heck, Sunny was sure just watching her do anything would do that. Plus the thought of spending more time with Dawn Summerfield was appealing. 

Dawn blinked in surprise. “You want to buy me art supplies?” 

Sunny blushed and cringed. “Is that too forward? Or is it some American taboo?” 

Dawn laughed. “No!! Just...I never met a guy who wanted to buy me paints before. Most of the guys I’ve dated are well...jerks is what Marianne says. They usually don’t understand my love of art or they were artists too and didn't see me as...ah, equal in skill.” She shrugged. “Sometimes artists can be real assholes,” she added. 

Sunny laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty much the same in the music business. The few girls I’ve dated either didn’t want me to spend so much time on my music, or they were hoping I would help them by writing them a song, or introducing them to the right people.” He frowned. “Not that I know the right people, but I was always a step up, not really a person to them.” Sunny sighed. “Boy, saying it out loud makes me sound pitiful.” 

Dawn smiled at him, reaching across the table to lay her hand on his. “No, it doesn’t.” She blushed, her thumb unconsciously stroking over his fingers when she spoke. “Would you...I mean you can say no, but I would love to hear you sing.” 

Sunny looked up at her, their eyes meeting. 

Sunny swallowed before he spoke. “How about I buy you some supplies and we find a good spot for painting. I’ll bring my guitar and play for you while you work.” 

“What about the rest of the party supplies for the weekend?” Dawn asked, though spending the rest of her day painting while such a gorgeous man serenaded her sounded like heaven. 

Sunny grinned. “We’ll stop and place the cake order first, then the rest of the day is ours.” 

Dawn beamed at him. “That sounds perfect.” 

* 

Marianne gazed out at the water with a smile highlighting her face. The boat was rocking as the water was choppy, but she was proud of herself for having no problem at all dealing with the movements of the boat. (She had been a little worried she was going to embarrass herself by throwing up, or boaking as Bog’s father had referred to it, but she kept her breakfast down without issue). Bog had brought the boat to a stop far enough away from the land that the town was a colorful smear in the distance. 

Marianne stood at the bow of the ship looking out, the breeze blowing her hair back. Bog came walking around from the back, carrying two bottles with him. 

He smiled at her. “Mam packed us some beer. She packed some water and soda too, but I thought you might like the beer.” 

Marianne took the offered bottle. “Thanks. This is gorgeous.” She turned to look back at the shore. 

Bog nodded. “Aye it is. All along here is pretty.” He gazed at Marianne’s profile. “Very pretty.” 

Marianne smiled and took a sip from the open bottle before she turned around and leaned against the side. “Why did you ever leave here?” 

Bog moved to lean next to her. “I don’t know if you noticed, but there are a lot of Kings around here and everybody knows everybody's business. I needed to get out on my own, be my own person, not tied to my family name. And my mother was setting me up with every available young woman she could find, from coast to coast, it seemed.” He chuckled. 

“You ever think about coming back, starting your own business here?” Marianne asked watching his profile as he looked at the shore line. His features were so sharp, almost stern, except that his eyes eased the severity of his features. She wanted so much to run her fingers along his jaw and into his hair again. His hair was soft, like his lips had been...he had such soft, tender lips. 

Marianne blushed, shaking herself from her little daydream when she realized Bog had been speaking. 

“I have, a few times. I do miss it, if I’m honest. America can be a little lonely.” Bog mused looking down at the bottle in his hand before he looked up. “Though I suppose now that I know you, it isn’t quite so lonely.” 

Marianne smiled glancing sideways at him. She felt warm inside, as if a little glow was trying to spread through her body. “I’m glad I’ve made America not so lonely for you.” 

Bog’s cheeks and forehead reddened as he turned to look at her. She was so beautiful, he thought. He had always thought her beautiful, but looking at her now, he felt his heart hammer, his palms growing sweaty and that kiss in his mother’s kitchen had...he pressed his lips together before he spoke. “Ah...why don’t I go get the basket and we can see what my Mam packed for us.” 

Marianne nodded, her blush matching Bog’s. “Sure, that sounds good.” 

Bog smiled and set his beer down and hurried back to the cabin. Marianne watched him walk away, her eyes raking over his figure before she groaned at herself. “God Marianne, lust much?” She set her beer down too and held her hand out that wore the engagement ring. She frowned as she stared at the ring. It was beautiful, just the type of ring she would have hoped for from a real fiance. She brought her hand down and rubbed her fingers over the ring, moving it back and forth. She liked Bog’s family a lot. They were a close knit group and his parents were absolutely sweet. She hated lying to them. 

She felt so confused too. That kiss...that kiss had been...Marianne pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. Would it be wrong to pursue this with Bog? There was something there, she was sure of it, and it was more than just her lust. She liked him, a great deal the more she learned about him, and she knew Bog liked her. Marianne closed her eyes in frustration with herself. What was she even thinking! 

She pushed herself up and spun around just as the boat was hit by a powerful rogue wave. The ship lurched up suddenly. Marianne lost her footing and began to slip. She overcompensated and in the next instant she was pitched forward, going straight over the edge so swiftly she didn’t have time to react, her startled scream being swallowed the moment she hit the water. 

* 

Bog took a moment to steady himself as he crouched down by the basket his mother had prepared for them. He was going to ruin his friendship that he was developing with Marianne by falling in love with her. God, he was so stupid, though he supposed that wasn’t really a surprise since here he was pretending to be engaged. He was stupid as well as a liar. 

Bog sighed and instead focused on the basket, looking through what his mother had packed: Scottish eggs, oat crackers, and smoked salmon...some cold pork pie and shortbread from yesterday. He smiled with a soft snort, picking up the basket when he thought he heard a shout. He frowned going still and listening when he was sure he heard it again. Bog dropped the basket and ran outside to where he had left Marianne. 

He arrived at the bow only to see she was gone, the beer bottles rolling across the deck, beer spilled everywhere and mixed with seawater... 

Bog’s eyes widened in panic. “Marianne!” 

Then he heard a shout. Bog rushed toward the sound to look over the side to see Marianne in the water, struggling to stay afloat as the choppy waves tossed her about. 

“Bog!!” she cried out, her hair in her eyes, and the deep chill of the water setting in. 

Bog eyes widened in panic. “Marianne! I’m coming!!” 

Bog didn’t think, just pulled his sweater off, kicking off his shoes in the same instant and dived off the edge of the boat. He hit the water bringing his arms in tight to his body so that he cut into the water perfectly before he shot to the surface a moment later. He swam swiftly over to Marianne, who was treading water. She looked cold and he could see she was tiring already, the cold water sapping her strength. When he was close enough, Bog wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. 

“Are you all right? Oh my god Marianne! Are you all right?” He hugged her tightly before pulling back to run his hands over her face pushing back her wet hair as he looked anxiously into her eyes. 

Marianne was shivering, the cold water seeping into her bones, but she smiled. “Bog, I’m okay--I’m okay.” 

Bog pulled her close again holding her tight against him, one hand cradled her head, the other wrapped tight around her as he kicked his legs to keep his head above the water. Marianne, despite her shivering, could feel Bog’s heart beating hard and fast. She wrapped her arms around him dropping her head to his shoulder. Bog kissed her wet hair and whispered. 

“Let’s get you back on board and dry you off.” 

Bog held her with one arm as he swam for the boat. Once he was alongside it he grabbed hold of the side and lifted Marianne part way out of the water where the ladder hung off the side. “Grab hold of it Marianne.” 

She reached up and wrapped her hands around the bar, Bog’s arm around her waist. He reached up over her grabbing the other rung. “Now hold on, I’m going to pull myself up and then reach down for you. You going to be okay?” Bog’s eyes were intense as he looked at her, water dripping from his hair and face. 

Marianne shivered, the frigid water making her muscles ache, and her teeth started to chatter, but she nodded. “I...I can.” 

Bog smiled at her before he pulled himself up. Even in her shivering state, Marianne very much appreciated the view of Bog’s arms, the muscles of his back as he pulled himself up, careful with his legs not to knock her loose. Once he was on board, he leaned over, grabbed her wrist, and pulled, with Marianne helping Bog get her back on board. 

He wrapped an arm around her and guided her into the cabin of the boat. Bog sat her down at the curved seat that wrapped around the side of the room. Marianne sat down on the cushioned seat, shivering while Bog found the promised blankets his mother said were on the boat. Marianne wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth chattering loudly while she watched Bog. He walked over to a trunk that was bolted to the floor, pulled a stack of blankets out, and brought them over to Marianne. 

“Okay, now I want you to strip off all your clothes off and wrap up in these so you can get warm.” Bog smiled at her. “I’ll go wait outside.” 

“Wh-whaat-t...aabou…” Marianne started, but Bog only smiled and cut her off. “I’ll be fine.” He walked back over and pulled out two more blankets. “I’ll go strip outside. I’ll bring you my sweater too, it’s still dry.” 

Marianne began to protest, but Bog smiled at her and stepped out of the cabin. 

* 

Marianne stripped, shivering as she dropped her soaked clothing to the floor and wrapped the blankets around herself. She had four of the five blankets; she wrapped one around her waist, another around her chest, another around her shoulders, and another across her lap until she was a mound of blankets. A few minutes later, she heard a light knock and Bog’s voice. 

“Marianne?” 

“It’s fine!” she called out. 

Bog pushed the door open and stepped in. He had one blanket around his waist, though the blanket barely made it to his knees. He had another blanket across his shoulders and was carrying his sweater with him. 

“How are you feeling?” Bog asked, moving over to her, handing her the sweater. “I’ll step out again so you…” 

Marianne frowned. “Just turn around, it won’t take me a moment to get this on.” 

Bog nodded and turned. After a few seconds, she said in a quiet tone. “All right, I’m mostly decent.” 

Bog turned to see her wearing his sweater, wrapped up again in the blankets. Despite everything, she looked damn cute he thought. 

“I feel better now--I can talk without stuttering.” Marianne grinned at him. “You didn’t have to jump in after me like that...maybe just a life preserver…” 

Bog sat down next to her with a soft laugh, his hands resting on his knees. “You’re right, I don’t always think straight…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.” 

Marianne reached up and took his hand. “But that was really heroic of you Bog.” 

Bog looked over at her and smiled. “Still wanna have lunch with me?” 

Marianne beamed. “There is nothing in the world I would rather do.”


	4. Lunch, Dinner and Drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't have this up yesterday. I've had a bad case of food poisoning for the last several days. So much fun.

Sunny strummed his guitar while he sat on the side of a rock on top of a large rolling green hill that looked down over the town; a spectacular view of not just the town, but also the water, the castle, and out into the horizon where the setting sun was visible as an orange-yellow orb. It looked like the fairy tale end of a romantic movie, Dawn thought as she looked out, the paint brush in her hand. She stared out at the scene before her, her breath taken away. She didn’t think she could capture the image before her though she had tried, and with Sunny beside her… pShe glanced over at him sitting on the rock, one foot balanced against the side while his fingers moved over the strings of the guitar and felt her heart do hard flip. She wasn’t sure if it was the dreamlike quality of this place, or the fact that Sunny wasn’t just handsome, or was an artist like her, but in their short time together Dawn felt a deep connection unlike any she had felt before. She knew she was falling in love and had no idea what she was going to do about it. She pressed her lips together, turning her attention away from him to try to focus on the landscape she was painting. Sunny strummed the metal strings of his guitar, looking up just as Dawn turned away from him unaware that she had been staring at him only seconds before. He gazed at her with a happy sigh. She moved her brush across the canvas with an elegnace he appreciated, her hand moving as if she were conducting a symphony, or maybe writing a song, but instead of words she was creating an image with color. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Living in a town known for its artists, Sunny had watched a lot of a painters work, but none of them gave him a pleasant shiver like Dawn did. The young blonde woman stood in front of the easel he had purchased for her (though she had insisted on helping pay for her paints and brushes.) The golden sunlight made her hair glow, her eyes catching the sun and turning the blue of her eyes luminescent. She looked every inch a fairy princess to him. Sunny felt a blush rise up his neck, his cheeks, and top out at his forehead and ears. He knew he was falling in love (and so soon!), something he had never experienced before. He had dated a lot of girls, just like he had told her about at lunch, but no one had ever made him feel the way Dawn did. 

Sunny pulled his attention away from Dawn to finish tuning his guitar. He hummed a quiet tune while Dawn lost herself in painting the landscape in front of her before he began to sing. He chose an old song, The Hieland Sogder. He picked out the tune and sang, his voice low and melodic. Dawn stopped her painting, turned toward Sunny, but he was looking down, losing himself in the words and melody. 

High up amang yon Heiland hills 

There lives a canny maiden, 

And she's gone oot ane fine summer's nicht 

To watch all the soldier's paradin'. 

And they looked sae braw as they marched awa', 

The drums they did rattle and the pipes they did blaw, 

Which caused young Mary for to weep and say, 

I will follow my Heiland soldier. 

Ah, but, Mary dear, my wage is small, 

And what if in battle I should fall, 

I hae gang hame tae your Heiland hall, 

Think nae mair on a soldier laddie ! 

Ah, but I got twenty pounds in the store, 

And I've got a herd 'bout ten times more, 

And I'll gie it to the laddie I adore, 

And I'll follow my Heiland laddie. 

* 

“That song sounds so sad,” Dawn said when he was done singing. 

Sunny looked up from his guitar with a smile. “I suppose it is. It’s about a young woman in love with a soldier who is going off to war.” 

Dawn rubbed her lips together before she set her brush down and walked over to sit beside Sunny on the rock. They were both quiet, though Sunny’s fingers never stopped caressing the strings of his guitar playing out a sweet, soft tune; what Dawn assumed was another piece from his culture. Dawn looked out at the landscape watching the sunset when Sunny asked, his voice gentle. 

“You ever think about staying longer?” 

Dawn turned to look at him. “Staying longer?” 

Sunny laid his hand against the guitar strings, quieting them before he put the guitar down, leaning it against the rock. “Here, in Scotland, would you ever consider staying longer than a week?” 

Dawn blushed looking down for a moment before she spoke. “Are you asking me to?” 

Sunny rubbed his hands down his thighs, swallowing nervously. “I ah...I guess I am...I don’t expect anything, I mean, we’ve only known each other a day, but I would like a chance to really get to know you, to spend time with you, take you out again…” Sunny smiled at her. “I mean...if you can...I’m sure Griselda and Brodie would let you stay with them and then maybe I could come visit you in the States...and…”Sunny dropped his head pressing the fingers of both hands into his forehead. “I sound like such an idiot. I'm sorry--that is just that stupidest thing I could have…” 

Sunny knew he was babbling, but he didn’t know how to stop himself when Dawn reached over slipping her fingers under his chin and forcing him to look up at her. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Dawn leaned close and pressed her lips against his. 

Sunny’s eyes opened wide, staring in disbelief as her kiss became more passionate after a few heartbeats, before she slowly closed his hands, reached out to cup her face. He kissed Dawn in return, taking the time to enjoy every moment her silken lips touched his, letting himself fall into the sweet caress of her tongue. 

Dawn dropped her hand from his chin to reach out and lay her hands on his shoulders, feeling the play of muscles under his shirt, her arms slowly coiling around his shoulders. A million thoughts raced through her head--could she stay? But Marianne and Bog weren’t really engaged, what would happen if his parents, his entire family...No. She wasn’t going to think about that because that was their problem...she was completely free to make any decisions she wanted, and the thought of staying here, getting to know Sunny, well...Dawn tightened her hold, giving herself over to the kiss. 

* 

Bog hung their clothing out to dry on a line while they ate. He set everything his mother had made for their lunch out on the table before sliding into the booth couch next to Marianne. He let out a laugh and pulled out two bottles filled with orange liquid that almost looked neon in color to Marianne. 

“HA!! Mam remembered!” Bog laughed looking at the bottles. 

Marianne frowned at the bottles in Bog’s hands. The orange liquid inside almost looked to glow in the sunlight. “What’s that?” 

Bog held them up with a chuckle. “Irn-Bru, the Scottish national drink--right behind whisky. One of my faves growing up. I have a hard time finding it in the States. Mam tried sending me some, but the shipping was ridiculous so I only ever have it when I come to visit” 

Marianne furrowed her brow. “Is it alcoholic?” 

Bog laughed, and Marianne smiled in response--watching him laugh made her heart thump harder. He was so handsome, his smile spreading across his lean features, his blue eyes dancing--and damn it, she really liked his crooked teeth. They simply made his smile that much better. Her gaze wandered down his throat to his shoulders, a hint of his bare chest under the blanket. She swallowed and focused on her drink. 

Bog handed her the drink, the grin still tugging at his lips. “No, it’s like an American soda only it tastes a little more like a creme soda. Though I should warn you, if you don’t like it, the marriage is off. I simply couldn’t marry a girl who didn’t like our national drink.” 

Marianne laughed and opened the bottle. “Well, I better make sure I like it.” 

Bog blushed when she said that, opened his own bottle while glancing at her from under his dark lashes. She looked so pretty, especially with her hair in disarray, drying in spikes around her head, her makeup washed away to show just her pure and lovely face. When she gazed at him with those large golden eyes, he felt as if every part of him came alive. 

She took a swing of the soda while Bog opened his bottle and took a long drink. He let out a sigh of happiness. “Ah, reminds me of being a kid.” 

Marianne giggled. “I can see you as a kid, I bet you were all arms and legs.” 

Bog chuckled. “Aye, I was, always the fooking tallest little shite.” 

He motioned at the large spread of food his mother had sent with them. “And skinny, I was and still am a Skinny Malinky Longlegs. My Mam was always trying to put weight on me, but it never took.” 

Marianne blinked and giggled, nearly snorting her soda. “A what?” 

Bog smirked at her. “Skinny Malinky Longlegs.” 

Marianne laughed. “Oh Bog that’s terrible!” 

Bog grinned and sang. 

“Skinny Malinky Long legs 

On banana feet 

Went to the pictures 

And fell through the seat. 

When the picture started 

Skinny Malinky farted 

Skinny Malinky 

Long legs 

On banana feet.” 

Marianne started to laugh. “Oh no.” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, they used to sing that all the time at me when I was a kid. I got into so many damn fights. Broke my nose a couple of times on some kid who was bigger than me fist, black eyes, bloody lips. I broke this tooth once.” He pulled his lips back and laid his finger on one of his top front teeth. 

“Oh Bog, that’s terrible,” Marianne gasped, her eyes welling up at the thoughts of a young Bog getting picked on. It tore her up inside to think of him, small and alone. 

Bog shrugged. “It’s fine. I got through it.” 

She reached over and laid her hand against his knee; she could feel his knee under the blankets and squeezed. “Still, no one should have to be bullied.” 

Bog smiled and looked at her sidelong. “You are very sweet; were you bullied in school?” he asked taking a sip of his drink and doing his best to steer the conversation away from him. 

Marianne shrugged. “No. I was one of the lucky ones. My father owned a big company that hired a lot of the people in the city, so everyone knew my name. I don’t know if my sister and I were popular because of who our Dad was or who we were, but we were popular. I was even prom queen.” She looked down at her soda, feeling slightly ashamed to admit that, as if she had just bragged. 

“Not that that meant anything really, I just…” 

Bog smiled laying his hand over hers ,which she had left on his knee. “I’m sure it was because of who you are, not because of your daddy Marianne. You are a sweet, beautiful young woman, so of course you were prom queen.” He smiled when Marianne looked up at him. “I would have admired you from afar if we had been in school together.” 

Marianne frowned. “From afar?” 

Bog nodded and took a drink of the orange beverage before he answered. “Aye, I was too much of a Skinny Malinky Longlegs--plus a dork--who got into too many fights for a pretty girl like you to have even seen me.” 

Marianne stared hard at him, trying to make sure he understood. “Bog, I would never have ignored you. I would have sought you out if we had been in high school together. I would have felt privileged to have known someone like you.” 

Bog blushed bright red. “Marianne, it’s fine, you don’t have to say that. I’m beyond my school days and I know what I look like. I ain’t no girl’s idea of Prince Charming.” He shrugged. “A long time ago, I figured I would end up alone. Fook, I was told to my face by a girl I fancied...no, that’s wrong, I thought I loved her, really loved her, but she made it plain, a man like me won’t ever find a girl who would want to spend her days with because I’m hideous.” He frowned, glaring down for a moment. “Why d’you think I had to ask you to pretend to be my fiancee?” His voice had dropped low when he said the last few words. 

Marianne felt a stab in her chest because she realized he really thought that way. He thought he was deeply hideous, thought himself unworthy of being loved...oh god, she thought, how could such a sweet, generous man think that about himself. 

Marianne set her drink down on the table, startling Bog when she cupped his face between her hands and lifted his face to lock gazes with him. “You are not hideous Bog. And I would have been damn lucky to have met you in school, to have had the chance to have you as a friend, as my boyfriend even, and that girl that said those awful things about you--well she is a fooking, ignorant bitch.” 

Bog stared back at Marianne, and for a moment he was simply lost in her eyes. She was more beautiful than any woman had a right to be he thought, but then her words sank in and he knew he was making a huge mistake because damn it, he was falling for her. He didn’t know what to do. Marianne was sweet, gentle and with the understanding of a saint, especially as she agreed to keep up a lie for a man she barely knew. No other woman would have done that, he was sure, despite the free trip to another country. Bog’s heart hammered so hard that it was making it the urge to kiss her, to feel her lips on his again so strong he almost gave in, but instead he grinned at her and whispered. 

“You said “fooking” instead of fucking--you cursed.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment before they both burst into laughter. 

Marianne blushed brightly. “Oh god, I did.” 

Bog grinned. “I’ll have you speaking Scottish before you know it.” 

She giggled with a smile, giving his knee a squeeze before she pulled her hand back. She took a sip of her drink and looked at all the food, not trusting herself to look over at Bog without either giggling or throwing herself into his arms and kissing him. She wasn’t sure what to do with the intensity of her feelings. She had never, ever felt like this before. She had thought she was in love with Roland, had thought her feeling genuine, but now, with Bog she was beginning to realize she had never been in love before now. She was falling hard for this man who she was fake engaged to and she didn’t know what to do with that knowledge, so she focused on food. 

“Your mother likes to feed people doesn’t she?” Marianne gazed at the spread that was enough food to feed at least another five or six people. “She really likes to cook too.” 

Bog, his stomach in knots and his lips burning with the desire to kiss Marianne, covered his own awkwardness with another laugh. “I think it comes from all the years of trying and failing to fatten me up. I could eat a horse in a sitting, but Mam never could get me to gain weight.” 

Marianne picked up a Scottish egg, popping the entire thing in her mouth. Her eyes rolled with pleasure and a wide grin. “Your mother is going to have to teach me to make these--and you’re an ass. Any man that can eat what he wants without putting on weight is the height of unfair.” 

Bog laughed picking up his own egg. “Pfft, you are gorgeous, you could gain as much weight as you wanted and you would always be sexy and gorgeous Marianne.” Bog’s eyes widened a little as he realized what he had just said, but Marianne beamed at him. 

“You are so sweet.” 

Bog shrugged. “I only speak the truth Marianne.” 

* 

They both ate nearly all of what Griselda had sent with them while talking about their childhoods, being teenagers, first driving lessons, and getting into college, among other things. Bog told her about the culture shock of moving to America, how lonely he had been (breaking Marianne’s heart, wishing that he had had someone or that she had been there with him). Marianne told him about Roland, about the shame and heartbreak, but how the lesson had made her realize who she really was and what she wanted for herself. They shared both sweet memories and painful ones, funny stories and sad stories, both of them getting to know each other, their friendship growing when finally Bog frowned and looked outside. The sky had darkened and the wind had picked up when he hissed. 

“Oh shite! We’re gonna be late for dinner! Mam is going to kill me!” Bog hopped up from his seat, the blanket around his waist slipped dangerously low when he forgot to grab it. The blanket slipped down his waist to his hips, and Marianne’s eyes followed the cloth to where it hung low giving her a clear view of his narrow hips, the flat planes of his stomach and a tease of curling hair... 

Marianne swallowed as her mouth began to literally water and her heart rate sped up. Oh wow, she thought, but just as quickly as she caught sight of his hips, the smooth plane of his stomach that soft tender spot just above...Bog yanked the blanket back up. 

“I’ll go see if our clothing is dry, though I think you should keep the sweater on, it’ll be more comfortable since it won’t be stiff and all.” He started to go for the door as he spoke. 

Marianne called after him. “But Bog...” 

He turned and gave her a smile. “I’ll be fine--promise.” 

* 

Bog wore only his pants, which Marianne decided was terribly distracting. She watched him bring the boat back in topless, her gaze following the play of muscles in his arms and chest, walking around to get a good look at that tattoo on his back. She reminded herself to ask him about that… 

When they got to the dock the sun was nearly gone over the horizon and Bog was muttering. “God, she is gonna kill me!” 

They hurried back to his parents’ house with a few strange looks from the townsfolk since it was chilly and Bog was still shirtless until they finally saw the lights of his parents’ home. There were a couple of cars parked outside when they arrived. 

Bog held the door open for Marianne when they arrived. 

She entered the home to the warm scent of something delicious cooking and the loud chatter of voices. 

“BOG! Marianne! Is that you or is it Sunny and Dawn? Y'all are running late!” The shout of Bog’s mother was followed by her walking in from the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron when she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at her son and future daughter-in-law. She smirked seeing that Bog wasn’t wearing his sweater, but Marianne was. 

“So, did the two of you have a good time?” Her tone was, Bog decided, rather presumptuous. 

Bog blushed. “Marianne accidently fell in.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So I gave her my sweater.” 

Griselda rushed over to Marianne grasping the younger woman by her shoulders and giving her a quick once over. “You fell in? Oh my goodness dear, are you all right? Let’s get some hot tea in you straight away.” 

Griselda started to lead her toward the voices in the other room and Marianne shot Bog a pleading look. (A hot shower was what she needed first). Bog hurried over laying a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “We both really need a shower Mam.” 

Griselda stopped. “Oh goodness, of course you both do. Go on now and get cleaned up. I’ve been waiting to serve dinner, we can wait a little longer, though yer great grandda has had two glasses of whisky already. That man is going to be binned before I get dinner on the table, and he brought his bagpipes to show off for Marianne, so we need to keep him a little sober for that.” She smiled at the two of them. “Now you two just take as long as you need, we’ll be waiting.” She winked at them both. Bog flushed red at his mother’s wink. 

“We’ll hurry Mam promise.” Bog put his arm around Marianne’s shoulder and began to lead her up the stairs while they heard Griselda yelling to be heard over their guests. “It was Bog and his girl. Just gonna be a minute. Poor Marianne fell in the drink.” 

This was followed by laughing and a few shouted things that Marianne couldn’t understand. 

* 

Bog sighed once they were upstairs. “Sorry about that; if I hadn’t gotten you from her clutches you would never have gotten a shower.” 

“Thank you.” Marianne chuckled, walking over to the closet where she had hung her clothing, the rest of her things still in the suitcase. “You can shower first,” Marianne stated as she pulled out some jeans and a nice plum colored blouse. 

Bog smiled. “Thank you, but you go ahead. It won’t take me long to get ready.” 

Marianne smirked. “Are you implying that I take a long time?” 

Bog’s eyes widened with horror. “No, no that wasn’t…” 

Marianne giggled. “Oh Bog, I was teasing!” 

She smiled at him, pulling out the rest of her things. Bog turned away so as not to look at her intimate things while she gathered them up. “Thank you Bog,” she said before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Once she shut the door and he heard the water start, Bog sighed and flopped back on the bed with his arms spread out. He smiled as he looked up at his ceiling. He had had a wonderful day with Marianne--just perfect, even with her falling into the water. He closed his eyes in thought. What am I doing? I’m falling in love and I’m just gonna get myself hurt again, he scolded himself. Bog squeezed his eyes shut, but Marianne was like no one he had ever met before; sweet, smart, caring...he could make a list that went on and on about how wonderful she was… 

“Yer a dobber, Bog King, a big stupid dobber,” he muttered to himself. 

* 

In the shower, Marianne let her mind wander thinking about Bog, about that blanket nearly falling off his hips, about his smile, the way his eyes lit up, and his laugh. She liked listening to him talk; the accent that had been faint back home was coming back thicker now that he was here in his home country. She liked so much about the man; he was sweet, kind, and being sexy didn’t hurt either. She sighed. This was the last thing she had thought would happen, that she would find herself falling for him. What was she going to do she wondered...she held her hand up to examine the ring on her finger with a slight frown. She held the ring and twisted it back and forth, a small pain developing in her chest. 

* 

After they both showered, Bog dressed in jeans that had holes in the knees (her heart nearly stopped when he had stepped out of the bathroom, wearing just the damn jeans!) with a black long sleeved t-shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders, and a pair of boots. He looked good enough to eat, she thought and pressed her lips together to stop herself from licking them. Bog put his hand out to her. 

“Ready to face my family again? At least this time it's a smaller group.” Bog chuckled with a shake of his head. 

Marianne took his hand. “Let’s do this.” 

Bog smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. They headed out of their room and down the stairs. 

* 

The sound of conversation drifted from the dining room as Bog led Marianne into the room. Around the long dining room table (which looked ancient to Marianne) was part of Bog’s family. At the head of the table sat Bog’s father Brodie, who was sipping from a glass of whisky. Next to him sat Paden,with his own glass filled to the brim. Next came Bog’s great grandfather, Alfie and Alice (Bog’s paternal grandparents), along with another man that Marianne only vaguely remembered meeting.) She thought his name might be Birk, but she wasn’t sure; another uncle if she recalled, and last were Sunny’s parents, Brutus and Hattie. On the other side of the table there were fours empty seats that Marianne assumed were for her and Bog, her sister (which she just now realized was missing), and she guessed Bog’s cousin Sunny. Marianne only just now recalled that her sister had left that morning with Sunny to go pick up party supplies, though Marianne wondered where they were at the moment. 

Griselda was leaning against the wall closest to the kitchen when they entered the dining room. “Bog! Marianne! Canna get you some tea, or whisky?” 

Paden piped up. “Ah heard ya had a bit of a spill lass, a good dose of whiskey will chase away any lingering effects from that cold water bath ya took.” He grinned at her, lifting his glass. The bright blue King eyes were slightly glazed as the old man took a large swallow. 

Griselda glared at her husband. “I thought I told you not to fill his glass again.” 

Paden snorted. “Ah stop Griselda, ya always were such a Numptie about my drink. How ya think I lived this long? It wasn’t from eating weeds and drinking that sparkling water all the younguns go on about.” 

Griselda rolled her eyes. “Ya lived this long because yer a damn stubborn old man like yer sons and their sons and I'm sure any sons Marianne has will be just as stubborn.” 

Brodie, Brutus and Birk all chuckled, while Alfie looked sheepish,(Marianne blushed brightly) though Griselda swatted her husband on the shoulder and pointed at Paden. “That old man gets fecked, he’s yer responsibility and there will not be no bagpipes if yer gootered grandda.” 

Paden pouted and set down his drink. “Yer a mean woman Griselda, just like me late wife.” 

Griselda smiled at him a moment, then turned her attention back to Bog and Marianne. “Tea then?” 

“Yes, thank you.” Marianne took the seat that Bog pulled out for her. 

Paden glanced toward the kitchen and quickly picked up his drink to take several large swallows. “Don’t tell yer mother.” Paden grinned mischievously before he continued. “Now Bog, Marianne, I wanted to talk to you both.” Paden began, but was interrupted by the door banging open and the sound of Dawn’s sweet voice calling out. “Sorry we’re late!! Lost track of the time!” 

Griselda yelled back as she came into the dining room, carrying a tray from which wafted the warm scent of sausages, roast meat, and potatoes. She managed to balance a pot of tea and two cups as well. “Oh yer both just in time, I’m just setting the stovies on the table.” 

Brodie grinned. “Ah, one of my favorites.” He grinned and smacked Griselda on the rear as she set the dish down in front of her husband. 

She jumped and laughed. “Oh, you cheeky bastard!” 

Brodie chuckled while Griselda set out the plates with the food on them while Sunny and Dawn hurried in with rosy cheeks and--everyone noticed--holding hands. 

Marianne met her sister’s gaze with a lifted brow, but Dawn only responded with a blush as she took her seat. 

Griselda smiled setting the tea down in front of Bog and Marianne along with their food. “Oh now isn’t this just nice, having some young couples at the dinner table.” 

Alfie glanced at his son and nodded in agreement. “Aye it is.” 

Sunny and Dawn both blushed a healthy red shade while Marianne leaned close to her sister and whispered. “What’s going on?” 

The blush on Dawn’s cheeks spread up to her forehead and ears. “I’ll tell you later.” 

Mariane gave her sister a hard look, but she was smiling. “You better.” 

Paden grinned and dug into his food. “Yer a fine cook Griselda.” 

She grinned with pleasure. “Thank you, though it's a challenge keeping you King men fed, all of you have hollow legs.” Everyone at the table chuckled as Griselda headed back for the kitchen. 

“Be right back with the stew!” 

“You need any help Mam?” Bog called after her and started to push his chair back. 

Paden waved him back to his seat. “Ye can go help yer Mam in a minute boy, I wanted to talk to you and Marianne for a bit.” 

Bog frowned with a quick glance toward Marianne as he scooted his chair back toward the table. “Something wrong?” he asked. 

Paden shook his head. “Nah, nothin, just...Griselda tells me you haven’t set a date yet fer yer wedding.” 

Bog felt heat rise in his neck and cheeks, glancing again at Marianne before he answered. “No, no we haven’t.” 

Paden nodded and took a bite of his food, stirring his spoon around. No one said anything, respecting the older man’s desire to take the time to say what it was he wanted to say. Sometimes Paden could be blunt, but other times he would take his time getting to the meat of a topic. 

Brodie reached over and touched his son’s arm. “Go on, if yer mother comes in here and you haven’t taken a bite, you know how upset she’ll be.” 

Bog frowned, nodded, and took a bite of his food without looking at it, practically shoving the spoonful in, his attention on his great grandfather. Marianne resisted frowning as she could see the worry lines around Bog’s eyes; he knew something was coming and he wasn’t happy. She took a bite of her food at the same time that she reached under the table to lay her hand on his thigh. Even through that small touch, she could feel the tension in his leg. 

The old man took a bite of his food and picked up his drink. “Well, I was thinking you should just get married this week while yer here at home fer me birthday.” 

Bog choked on his food. 

Marianne blinked in surprise, but then her attention was on Bog, smacking him on the back as he gagged and hit himself in the chest with a fist, sputtering and coughing. “Bog!” 

Bog fluttered a hand at her, coughing hard. “I’m fine...fine…” 

Griselda came racing back from the kitchen. “Bog!” 

“I’m fine!” He coughed again, grabbed his tea and swallowed large mouthfuls while everyone watched, though his father, grandfather and great grandfather seemed to be taking Bog’s reaction in stride. Sunny looked shocked while Aunt Hattie frowned in confusion with a look at her nephew. 

Bog was finally able to breathe, though his lungs and throat burned. “What are ye talking about? Getting married right now? Here? We can’t!” 

Paden frowned and swallowed down another gulp of whisky. “And why the fook not? Ya got a beautiful family church here where yer father, grandfather and myself all got married. The family is already here for my birthday, we could have it all ready to go in just a few days. The only thing that a be a problem would be all that fooking legal mumbo jumbo, but our boy Billy down at the registrar can help smooth that bit along. So why not? Yer getting married anyway--why not now?” 

Bog sputtered. “Because!” 

Paden frowned. “Are ya fooking scared boy? Ya don’t wanna get married now after ya put a ring on her finger? What’s wrong with ya? Don’t ya love her?” 

Bog growled. “This isn’t about me loving her or not! Of course I do! Yes, I want to marry her, but not like this! She doesn’t have a dress, her family wouldn’t be here…just because yer fookin ancient doesn't mean we have to do what you want!” 

Paden hissed right back. “Well I might not fooking be here whenever ya get yer skinny ass in gear Bog! So, aye!! Being fookin old should get me some privileges like seeing me dunderhead of a great grandson marry his girl!” 

Bog stood and slammed his hands on the table. “I’ll not be fooking pressed into making Marianne marry me just because you might die! Yer not ever gonna die ‘cause yer too fooking stubborn auld man!!” 

Paden hit the table next, standing up. “Yer too fooking stubborn boy! Awa’ an bile yer heid boy!!” 

Bog hissed. “Yer a right auld scunner!!” 

Paden snarled something back in an accent so thick, using words that Marianne had no clue about which prompted Bog to shout something else at his great grandfather, but this time she had no idea what he had said either. Bog’s accent had gone so thick with anger that she could only pick out the words fooking and eejit. 

Griselda shouted over to the two men yelling. “Haud yer wheesht!” 

Bog suddenly pushed away from the table, letting his chair fall back, and headed out the door, slamming it hard behind him while Paden dropped down in his seat muttering. 

“That boy is so fooking stubborn. I blame the Irish in his blood.” 

Griselda glared at the old man while Brodie shook his head. “Grandda now, be nice.” 

Marianne stood up, grabbed Griselda, and pulled her aside. “What just happened?” 

Griselda sighed. “Well, Paden obviously would like the two of you to get married for his birthday. He isn’t sure how many he has left and well, he’s always had a soft spot for Bog so he wanted to see you two married. Bog was upset I guess because he didn’t want to pressure you, my dear, into marrying him too soon. He seemed overly upset by the idea though...” She frowned with a serious look at Marianne. “Is something wrong I should know about between ya both?” 

“No, no we’re fine.” Marianne frowned and rubbed her hands down her thighs. “Where did he go?” 

Griselda sighed. “Probably down to the pub. If you just head down the street you should see it, it's called The Dragon’s Dug.” 

Marianne nodded and hurried out without another word. Griselda sighed before she glared at Paden. “Ya could have handled that better.” 

Paden folded his arms over his chest. “You raised a stubborn boy Griselda.” 

Griselda put her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “I can't help it if the boy takes after his father.” 

Brodie remained quiet and sipped his whisky without looking at anyone in particular. 

Dawn glanced at Sunny. “Maybe we better go after them?” 

Sunny nodded. “Aye, come on.” 

* 

The night air was more than a little nippy as Marianne jogged down the street. Bog hadn’t had that much of a head start, but he was nowhere to be seen. She realized that his long legs could carry him wherever he wanted much faster than she could move. She moved at a brisk pace until she saw the sign illuminated in the street light outside of what looked to have once been an old brick house with peeling white paint, with only a sliver of sidewalk in front of it, the house nearly flush with the street. The sign hanging at the top was of black metal with a large, gracefully painted dragon across it, holding a puppy in its arms with letters written in calligraphy along the bottom in gold, The Dragon’s Dug. 

There were a couple of people standing outside smoking and talking when Marianne hurried up to the doors. 

A tall blonde woman in a lycra green dress standing in front of the tavern looked at her funny then smiled. “Oh I bet yer the American girl that Bog King brought home!” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes, is he inside?” 

She nodded. “Aye he is, looked right pissed though.” 

Marianne nodded. “Thank you.” 

The woman gave her an absent wave as Marianne pulled open the wood and glass doors to the pub. 

She hurried inside and looked around. The pub was large with that ancient look of a place that had held its location for hundreds of years. The lighting was dim and comfortable with a small wooden bar that held six bar stools, all of which were taken. A bald man wearing an apron was pulling drinks behind the bar and talking with whoever came up. Several waitresses moved throughout the pub, all dressed in simple street clothes. The only thing setting them apart from the clients were the little white aprons and name tags they wore. The back wall behind the bar was mirrored with several colorful liquid bottles that cast a stained glass-like kaleidoscope of color back into the main room of the pub. The wooden tables and chairs were an odd collection of different styles and the walls of the old place were decorated with framed black and white photographs that Marianne assumed were of the town through the ages. The place was packed this evening even though it was in the middle of the week. A small stage (sat where in the pub?) was currently occupied by a man in jeans, shirt, and glasses playing a fiddle, and a few people were sort of dancing near the stage. A few patrons played a game of pool while a couple more were playing darts. A card game was going on in the corner, a small television hung by the bar showing a soccer game (mentally Marianne corrected herself, football here), and everyone else was socializing. 

Marianne looked around until she saw Bog. He was at the back corner of the bar with three empty pints beside him and currently deep into his fourth, which he was swallowing down like water to the cheers of a handful of people. Bog finished the drink and slammed the mug down with a grin. Marianne was shocked that he had downed so much in so little a time. 

“Told ya I still could drink the lot of you under the table.” Bog chuckled. 

One of the people near Bog (who stood head and shoulders above them all) was a short balding man in a kilt who smacked Bog on the back. “No one can drink like a King man they always say. I was sure America would have made you soft, glad to see ya proved me wrong Bog.” The man laughed. 

Bog held his hand up for two more while the lot surrounding him cheered Bog on. Marianne pressed her lips together in annoyance as she hurried over to him, pushing her way through the crowd. She was almost to Bog when someone grabbed her upper arm and yanked her around. 

“Well aren’t you just a pretty little thing?” The man who had grabbed her had short red hair, a freckled face and was dressed in slacks and a white dress shirt with his tie undone, and held a drink in his other hand. She could tell the suit was expensive, but the man inside was not; a crass man with money, the worst kind. She had met a lot of those in the art business, men and women both, with too much money and no taste who thought that simply throwing their egos and money around made them better than everyone else. These sorts of people also thought they could have whatever they wanted. 

The man held her arm in a firm grip, tightened his hold when Marianne tried to pull herself free. 

“Let me introduce myself lass--the name is Graham Fanning, I’m rather a big name here in town. Why don’t I buy ye a drink?” Graham leered at her and began to tug her with him toward the bar, which was at least the direction she wanted to go because the bar was where Bog was standing. 

Marianne frowned. For some reason that name sounded familiar. Marianne tugged on her arm. The man had clearly been drinking for a while because he smelled of alcohol strong enough that she squinted her eyes as he spoke. 

“It's a pleasure Graham, but I really need to…” She glanced at Bog ,her eyes going wide. In the time she had taken to interact with Graham, Bog had finished his drink and was on a sixth mug of something dark. She could see he was laughing, swaying on his feet. Oh no...he was drunk or on his way. Drinking that much in only a few minutes time was a recipe for drunkenness, she knew from one incident in college. She frowned in pain for him; clearly he was upset, upset with his great grandfather, maybe upset because he knew the man was right. Paden might not be around to see Bog married, upset because of the lie...and he was hurting. That bothered her the most, that Bog was hurting. And she realized she would do anything to stop him from hurting. She needed to get a hold of him and get him home, put him in bed, take care of him, and help him sleep this off. Then in the morning they needed to talk about this wedding, his great grandfather, discuss what happened tonight, and tackle why he was so upset. 

She couldn’t help but feel that maybe they should go through with the wedding...it wouldn’t be real because the paperwork would be difficult to get sorted on such short notice (even if his great grandfather had someone to help with the paperwork), but they could have a ceremony for his family, for grandda Paden. She frowned as she realized she wanted this wedding, wanted to enjoy that time with Bog and his family and that maybe the idea of pretending to marry him appealed to her. Seeing Bog dressed up waiting for her down the aisle... 

Maybe It would be good to go through the motions of a wedding for his great grandfather and his family, because Paden was correct--he didn't have an endless amount of time left. Marianne frowned and chewed the side of her lip. Maybe she should examine her own feelings a bit on this because part of her knew marrying Bog was crazy talk, while another part of her was yelling to go for it. Maybe she needed a drink too. 

Graham had been speaking, but now her attention was drawn to him once more. “Auh! Yer American! I do like American girls! Let me buy you a drink my dark eyed beauty and see where the evening takes us, shall we?” He winked at her, followed by a leer. Marianne narrowed her eyes and tugged on her arm, her free hand forming a fist. “Look Graham, it’s very nice of you, but I’m here to fetch my fiance.” 

Graham frowned, almost let go of her, but kept his tight grip on Marianne’s arm. “Fiance? Now, who the hell could have caught a pretty thing like you?” 

Marianne pointed at the bar and Graham followed her arm, frowning when he saw who she was pointing at. “You’re telling me you are engaged to that giant Skinny Malinky Long legs with a face like a skelped erse, Bog King?” 

Marianne’s eyes widened, her cheeks burning with rage. She turned and glared at Graham. 

“What did you just call him?” 

Graham grinned at her. “I went to school with that tube. The man’s a lavvy heid Scabby Roaster. Yah marrying him fer his money? His whole fookin family thinks they are a big deal in this town but I’ll tell ya girl, I make more fookin money in a week than that scrote makes in a year.” Graham's eyes raked over her. “I’ll keep ya real good. I know exactly what American girls like, I promise.” 

He pulled her close, though that only made what Marianne did next that much more effective. 

Marianne’s fist tightened, her thumb wrapped tight around around her fingers. Her rage at someone insulting Bog had her blood pressure rising through the roof until Marianne only saw red, then she swung her right fist at Graham’s face. She was satisfied with the sound of her first two knuckles hitting the jerk’s face, though the impact hurt her hand. (The man clearly had a hard head.) 

Graham’s head snapped back, his fingers opening up and releasing her arm. Marianne stumbled back as Graham lurched back from her and into a table. 

There was some shouting, the cry of “Someone decked Graham!!!” roared through the crowd, all eyes turning toward Marianne. 

Graham was pushed up by the patrons at the table, grabbing at his now bloody nose. “Why ya fooking cunt!!” 

Marianne snarled. 

* 

At the bar, a tipsy Bog turned around at the sounds of shouting, looking over the heads of everyone in the bar. His gaze landed on Marianne and Graham fookin Fanning. Even with being well on his way to drunk and on the path to getting smashed, Bog saw what had happened. With Marianne standing to the side, her hands rolled into fists and Graham Fanning with a bloody nose, Bog’s vision clouded over, red with rage. 

He shoved his way through the gathered crowd until he was standing beside Marianne. He grabbed her and turned her around. 

“Marianne, what’re ye doing here? Are ya hurt?” He grabbed her fist. 

Marianne looked up at him, her heart thumping fast. “I’m okay, I came to get you. You need to come home with me.” 

Bog frowned, holding her hand. “Marianne…” 

“This stupid cunt really is yer fiancee?” Graham snarled. “She fooking almost broke my nose!” 

Bog turned on Graham, his eyes flashing with a promise of violence. “Ya better say yer fookin sorry Graham, if Marianne hit ya, it was with good reason!” 

Marianne hissed in annoyance. “He was trying to force me to have a drink with him and he called you some terrible names Bog.” 

Graham huffed back glaring at Marianne. “I wouldnae ride that cunt in tae battle, let alone buy her a fucking drink!” 

“Ya better that back Graham Fanning or I’ll make ya eat yer words.” 

Graham grinned. “I’d like to see ya try Bog King.” 

Bog snarled. The growl in his tone gave Marianne shivers up and down her spine and her blood whooshed through her body, hot, burning. She found herself turned on, watching Bog defend her honor. It was all rather medieval, and maybe just a little dated, but seeing that hint of his crooked teeth looking a little fanged in the dim pub light, the furrow of his brow, and the curl of his lip. 

Damn, Marianne thought, he was sexy. 

“Graham Fanning, yer a wee inbred mutant cunt,” Bog growled through clenched teeth. 

Graham hissed back. “Shut yer puss fannybaws! Yer maw's git balls n yer da' loves it” 

The crowd all gasped at the insult. 

Marianne saw Bog’s hands roll into fists and later she would swear she saw heat rising off of him. She put her hand on his arm. “Bog, come on, let’s just go home.” 

“Yeah Bog, let yer little American cunt fiancee take ya home, ya hackit bassa!” Graham touted. 

Bog said, low and menacing. “That’s it ya fookin muppet!” 

Bog swung, and despite the insults traded, Graham was unprepared. Bog’s fist hit the red haired man hard enough that Graham spun one way, and the strike with Bog’s second fist spun the man the other way. Graham wobbled for a moment, stumbling into a table. The patrons at the table grabbed for their drinks, but Graham grabbed a pint from one of the women at the table. She cried out and her boyfriend stood at the same time. 

“Hey, give that back ya bampot!” the boyfriend yelled trying to grab for the drink. 

Graham swung around in the next instant and hit Bog across the chin with the glass mug, shattering it into a shower of glass. 

Bog stumbled backwards by the impact, but he was caught by the gathered crowd before he could fall. They pushed him back upright and Bog swung with a great, heavy growl. His fist struck Graham hard enough across the jaw that the ginger haired man fell against a woman who screamed. 

Marianne gasped, seeing blood on Bog’s lip and chin, running down in bright red drops to spatter his shirt and some to fall to the pub floor. At the same time a feeling of building tension hit the air around them; the bar went quiet for a long second, there was a shout…followed by another second of absolute quiet as even the man playing on stage stopped. In the next breath, the silence was broken. 

The entire pub erupted into a full on brawl.


	5. Bloody Lips and Tender Kisses

Griselda stood in the dining room glaring at all the King men who still sat at the dining room table. Next to her stood Hattie and Alice, applying their own glares to the situation. The men all looked sheepish. 

“Brodie, if you don’t get yer arse down to that pub right now and bring yer son home, yer gonna be sleeping on the floor,” Griselda snarled. 

Brodie sighed, standing up. “Fine, fine, but I don’t see why I have to go alone. Yer his mother…” 

Griselda huffed and stomped out of the room. “Get yer arse in gear!” she yelled as she exited the room. 

Hattie glared at her husband. “Our son just went down to the pub to get his cousin…” She tilted her head and Brutus groaned, getting to his feet. “Fine! Going!” 

Alice glared at Alfie and Paden. 

Paden grumbled. “I don’t see why I haveta…” 

Alice pointed at her father-in-law. “Paden King, you get off yer fookin arse and go talk to yer great grandson right now. Alfie--talk to yer father.” 

Alfie threw his hands up. “I don’t…” 

Alice narrowed her eyes and Alfie cringed, turning to his father. “Da…” 

“Fine…” Paden got to his feet while muttering. “I still don’t see what all the ruskus is about, just asked the boy to marry his girl…” 

* 

Dawn and Sunny hurried down the street hand in hand. 

Sunny’s haste had Dawn worried. “You think Bog is all right?” 

Sunny shook his head. “If he went to the pub, then no. Bog used to drink a lot when he was younger. In high school he would get minkit every weekend--school wasn’t really pleasant for Bog.” 

Sunny . “He got into a lot of fights.” 

Dawn frowned. “Bog? But he is so kind and sweet. I can’t imagine him in a fight or really being all that angry. He just doesn’t seem the type.” 

Sunny nodded. “Aye, he is a gentle soul, but he got into fights because people would tease him mercilessly. It hurt him a lot. He was angry a lot in school, hid how much he hurt behind being angry, raging against the people that hurt him, giving as good as he got. Then he would drown his pain drinking.” Sunny’s lips twitched into a small smile. “We would get drunk together because I was bullied a lot too. Spent a lot of Saturday nights drinking ourselves blind then going to church in the morning to ask for forgiveness. 

Dawn gasped in shock. “You did? I mean, you were bullied? But everyone seems to like you; I can’t image either of you drinking like that.” 

Sunny shrugged with a nod. “Aye, a short little mixed kid? Sure I was bullied a lot, but not like Bog. He got the worst of it, partly because he was so tall and skinny, but it was mostly because there was this prick named Graham Fanning--father was a local big shot--he really had it out for Bog. Bog’s da and Graham’s father hated each other in school too, so there’s been a rivalry between the King’s and the Fannings for ages. I know that Graham’s father was after Bog’s mother too, this was before she married Brodie.” He shrugged. “Anyway, the point is there’s been bad blood between the Fannings and the Kings for a while. That little shit Graham terrorized Bog, though Bog punched one of his teeth out during this one fight.” Sunny chuckled. “It was glorious. Bog had taken as much as he could and he turned and pounded Graham into the ground.” Sunny grinned at the memory. “He got suspended from school, but it was worth it...anyway…” 

Sunny frowned as he spoke. “Bog calmed a bit when he went to college, but there were a few nights...and then when his heart got broken…” Sunny sighed and shook his head. “I don’t think I had ever seen Bog so slaughtered like he was that night.” Sunny winced at the memory before he continued. “Anyway, he stopped drinking, found himself he said, learned to control his temper, but I know what family can be like…” Sunny looked worried as they hurried down the darkened street. “If anyone can drive a man back to drinking, it’s family.” 

When they arrived at the bar they could hear the sounds of shouting. There were a handful of people standing in the doorway watching whatever it was that was going on. 

Sunny hurried over, grabbing a large man with an unfortunate haircut, Dawn thought. “Liam! What’s happening?” 

Liam turned, saw Sunny, and chuckled. “Bog’s taken a punch at Graham, then Graham’s mates got involved! Oh and Bog’s girl threw a couple of punches and now everyone’s involved! It’s glorious mate, just glorious!” 

Sunny held onto Dawn’s hand as he shouldered past the people jammed into the doorway. “Who’s winnin’?” he yelled and was greeted with a chorus of: “Bog and his girl!” 

Sunny pushed through the crowd and stumbled into the bar just as he saw Bog, his lip bloody, a pressure cut across one cheek, and fire in his blue eyes. He held some dark-haired man by his hair and threw him across the bar. The man slid across the slick surface and disappeared over the side while at the same time Dawn squeaked in surprise to see her sister throwing a right hook, her fist connecting to some woman’s face; the unfortunate woman spiraled backwards into the crowd where she disappeared. The grin on Marianne’s face was both scary and funny; it looked to Dawn as if Marianne was enjoying her first bar fight. 

“Oh fook me!” Sunny groaned as he took in the scene. Everyone was involved in the fight, even the bartender, and it was clear as day that sides had been taken, with a smaller group fighting for Graham Fanning, but a much larger section of the bar was on Bog and Marianne’s side in the fight. 

As Sunny wondered how to get his cousin and Marianne out of the ruckus, he and Dawn were pushed aside as Bog’s father, mother, and the rest of his family that had been at dinner burst into the bar. The Kings fanned out on either side of Sunny and Dawn, while Paden grinned watching as Bog took a punch to the face that barely moved him. Bog responded by grabbing the offender with one hand on the man’s shoulders while with his fist Bog gave the man a hard short punch to the face that folded the man like an accordian. 

Paden leaned on his cane and whooped aloud. “That’s my great grandboy there!!” 

Griselda frowned, not sure if she was upset or pleased, especially when she saw Marianne trading punches with anyone that got too close to her. Her frown turned into a smirk when Marianne’s back bumped against Bog’s and the two of them started fighting back to back. Her heart swooned with happiness to see her son and his girl defending each other, fighting as a team. 

Paden chuckled. “I’m going in!” 

Alfie grabbed at his father. “Now Da…” 

But Paden moved quicker than his son and his age, and was gone, using his cane to beat anyone who got too close to him. 

Birk shoved past Brutus and Hattie. “Fook it, there’s Sten Firth! That bastard owes me money!” And just like that, Birk was lost to the fight. 

Brutus groaned, calling out. “Birk get yer arse back here!” 

Hattie sighed as she watched her son. “Darling can you go retrieve yer Da and Uncle?” 

Sunny nodded and waded into the throng of people as Dawn called out. “I’ll help!” 

Griselda chuckled, smiling at her husband. “Go on then.” 

Brodie grinned and whispered to his wife. “I’ve been wanting to belt that prick Kirk since his boat hit mine and he never paid me for the damages.” 

Griselda pushed her husband. “Go on then, before someone calls the police.” 

Brodie chuckled, pulled Griselda close, and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek before he waded into the fight. Alice glanced at her daughter-in-law with a smirk. “So, wanna drink?” 

Griselda laughed. “Hattie?” 

“Of course. Let’s go ladies.” Hattie pointed like they were going off to war, and the three women pushed their way to the bar. 

* 

Sunny was doing his best to get to Bog, his uncle, or his father, but there were just too many people moving about, punches being thrown, and at one point, a chair flew over his head; it was ridiculous. He was constantly having to duck or weave to avoid a punch or a knee. He had just seen Bog move past him when he heard Dawn squeak. Sunny spun around to see that Dawn was being pulled into the fight, like she was being swept away by the tide. He narrowed his eyes and hurried after her. 

“DAWN!” 

Dawn reached desperately for him. “SUNNY!” 

Two men were struggling with each other, each had a hold of the other man’s shoulders. They moved between Sunny and Dawn. Sunny could see Dawn’s face, saw she was truly scared. He snarled and yelled at the two men. “GET YER ARSES OUT OF THE FOOKIN WAY!” 

Sunny’s yell surprised both men who turned to look down at the short, mixed Scotsman just before Sunny punched them both in a surprising and rapid quick series of jabs to their faces, sending both men stumbling out of the way. 

Dawn squeaked and threw herself at Sunny who caught her in a tight embrace. 

Dawn smiled at him. “That was amazing Sunny! You’re my hero!” 

Sunny blushed. “Really?” 

Dawn nodded with enthusiasm. “You are Sunny.” She dropped her voice to a whisper that only he could hear. “My hero.” 

Her smile was soft, her light blue eyes bright. Sunny stared back at her, the fight falling away until he saw nothing but her. They drew closer until their lips touched. Dawn made a soft sound of want, her tongue sliding against his in a sweet caress that sent warms shivers racing down his spine. Her hands slid into his hair as she pressed her body against his, her lips gliding against his lips. Sunny pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tight around her, holding her as close as he could to return her kiss with equal heat and passion. He forgot about his uncle, his father, and his cousin--the only thing that Sunny was aware of was how perfect Dawn felt in his arms, how sweet her kiss was, and how he was falling hard and fast for this pretty little blonde American. 

* 

Bog wiped the blood from his face and spared a glance over his shoulder at Marianne. His voice was stern--sterner than he meant it to be--but seeing Marianne had startled him out of the drunken stupor he was aiming for. “Why’d ye come down here?” 

Marianne gave him a sour look over her shoulder at him. “I came to be with you Bog. I wanted to make sure you were all right. And I wanted to be here if you needed me.” 

Bog ducked a punch, which he answered with a punch of his own. “Ye didn’t have to come down here Marianne…” 

“I know that…” Marianne yelped as a woman kicked her. Marianne hissed and punched the woman in the face. “...I want to be here for you--you’re my fiance, after all.” 

Bog weaved away from a sloppy punch from a drunk man, and her words caused a warmth to spread through him. But then he frowned turning around toward her, not sure how to reply. He still felt a good buzz and wasn’t quite sure he heard her correctly either, but his expression turned both surprised and pleased. “Marianne…” 

“Shut up Bog,” Marianne hissed with a little smile of humor tugging the corners of her lips into a smile. “We’re fighting right now. You can look adorable later.” 

She caught a hint of a smirk that danced across his lips, giving her a hint of those adorable crooked teeth of his and a twinkle of blue eyes before he turned his attention back to the fight. Marianne was smiling, her attention divided between the fight and Bog, so that she didn’t notice right away when Graham made his way closer to her. The ginger-headed man looked more than annoyed--he looked downright furious as he pushed and shoved his way through the crowd toward her. When Marianne twisted around to avoid a chair that someone had thrown across the room, Fanning grabbed her from behind, locking his arms under her shoulders and pressing his hands against the back of her head effectively locking her arms up and lifting her off her feet as he pulled back. With his greater height and size, he pulled Marianne off the floor. 

“Now there lass, why don’t ye cool down? I’ll buy ye a drink, we can go to my place. I can show a lass like you why Bog King is such a mink.” Graham’s voice was condescending and grated on Marianne’s nerves like fingernails across a chalkboard. His tone also reminded her of Roland, the way he would speak to her, the way he made her feel small, that his cheating had been her fault, but what angered her more than anything else was the way this man was insulting Bog, the sweetest, kindest man she had ever met. 

All those emotions boiled up into white hot, blinding rage. Marianne threw her weight down, her entire body slithering out of Graham’s hold. She spun around, her eyes landing on one of the only still standing barstools. Marianne didn’t think, just reacted, grabbing the bar stool. She thrust it up, slammed the flat part of the stool into Graham Fanning’s chin, knocking his head back. The man took two steps back before stumbling into Bog. 

Bog spun around, only having a spit second to see that it was Graham who had stumbled into him. Before Bog could fully react to this information, he watched as Marianne used the stool she still held to slam it across Graham’s face like a bat; and shattered the barstool in the process. The man went flying back a few steps to crash into a table that collapsed under his weight. The man lay still, his arms flung out, his nose and lips bloody while he groaned. 

The pub went quiet, everyone went still, stopping in mid-motion as if they were playing a game of freeze tag. Paden was standing in a small crowd, his cane raised over his head, Birk was in mid-swing while Brutus was trying to make a grab for his brother. Alfie and Brodie were each in the middle of twin swings, Sunny had grabbed Dawn around her waist, lifting her out of the way of a flying glass mug and last, but not least, Griselda, Hattie and Alice were sitting at the corner of the bar drinking shots. Marianne would have found it all comical if not for her burning rage at the man she had just decked. All eyes in the pub turned toward Graham and Marianne. 

Bog blinked at first in surprise, but that turned into a full smile that bubbled up into a laugh. 

“Och!!! Marianne, that was fookin brilliant!” 

Marianne grinned at Bog, but before she could reply, someone near the door shouted. “Fook!! The coppers is here!!” 

Bog hissed. “Ah shite!” 

The bartender motioned at Bog as chaos erupted again with patrons fleeing out the front, a couple of people trying to pick up Graham and haul him out the door before the officers arrived. Bog grabbed Marianne’s hand and rushed for the bar toward the motioning bartender. 

The bartender grinned. “Go, on with you, out the back.” 

Bog smiled. “Thanks Steve.” 

Steve smiled and waved. “It was nice to see that prick Graham get his comeuppance.” Steve winked at Marianne, but said to Bog. “That one is a keeper Bog. I better get an invite to the wedding.” 

Bog blushed as he hurried out behind Marianne. 

* 

When the police arrived at the pub, only a few people remained inside. Officer James Connolly was a tall muscular blonde who was born and raised in the town, and Officer Duncan Kerr, was a short, wiry man with skin the color of dark chocolate, was from Glasgow. The two officers stepped inside, tucking their hats under their arms and looked around. There were a few broken chairs, a couple of broken stools and a table or two that were also broken or on their last legs. Decorating the floor was spilled alcohol and glass, which was littered around the pub like glitter, but the few patrons that remained were sitting at the bar or at the unbroken tables sipping their drinks while the man on stage played a soft yet cheerful tune on his fiddle, albeit with a swelling eye. Paden King turned around from where he was sitting at the bar; the old man had a black eye and a busted lip, but he was grinning ear to ear. 

“Hello boys.” He held up his pint. “Glorious evening!” 

Officer Kerr walked over. “Mr. King.” He glanced around, saw Birk, Brutus, Brodie and Alfie, all of them sporting bruises or cuts. “And Kings.” He saw Sunny sitting at a corner table with a pretty blonde he had never seen before sitting close to him. Sunny waved. “Hey Duncan!” 

Duncan smiled. “Sunny, nice to see ya.” He turned and saw Griselda, Hattie and Alice at the bar. The ladies each gave him a smile and he bowed his head slightly, touching his forehead. “Ladies. We got a call saying there was a fight here?” 

Brodie stood up, walking over with a pint in hand. “Nothing going on here mates, can I buy you boys a drink?” 

Kerr smiled. “No thanks Mr. King, cannae drink while on duty.” 

Brodie shrugged. “Too bad Duncan, yer father never had a problem.” 

Duncan laughed. “Well as my Da is always saying, those were different times Mr. King.” 

Brodie laughed. “Too true.” 

Connolly walked around slowly looking at the destruction. “Are you sure nothing happened Steven?” He glanced over at the bartender who was content to wipe the counter. “Nothing happened James,” he said with a shrug. “Just a regular night.” 

Officer Connolly didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged. “Well, does anybody have anything to report?” He turned in a slow circle to trade glances with the bar patrons, but no one said anything. He glanced at his partner with another shrug. Duncan pressed his lips together, glanced at his watch, then nodded to Brodie. “Maybe I will have that drink.” 

* 

Marianne slipped her hand into Bog’s when they stepped out of the bar and into a small back parking lot, both of them chuckling as they took off at a jog. 

Bog grinned at her. “This way!” 

He pulled her around the back of the pub heading over to an aging wooden fence, weaving for a few steps as he chuckled, the drink making him unsteady. He let go of her hand and reached up to pull himself up until he was straddling the fence. The whole maneuver kept Marianne’s attention; she bit her bottom lip then winced because it was split. Bog turned and reached down for her. 

“Come on.” 

Marianne giggled and took his hand, letting him tug her up enough to so she could grab the top of the fence, brace her feet against the wood, and pull herself up the rest of the way. Bog grinned at her once he was sure she wouldn't fall before he dropped down to the ground on the other side. He turned and reached up with his arms out. Marianne laughed and dropped into his arms. Bog caught her, held her tight against him, his face against the side of her neck, and closed his eyes for a moment. She felt good in his arms; embracing her felt like heaven. He spread his fingers along her back, pressing her to him. He didn’t want to let her go. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around him, hugging him and pressing her face against the softness of his throat. She closed her eyes as she took in the scent of him, warm, masculine mixed with soap, his cleans clothes, and alcohol, but she loved it. She loved it so much so that she almost licked him. Marianne was stunned at her desire to simply drag her tongue along his throat. She struggled not to give in to the desire. Instead she simply held him tighter, her heart hammering. 

They stayed like that, holding each other for a long minute before she leaned back to look into his blue eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment, their faces moving closer to each other, their lips hovering, the moment stretching, before Bog placed her down on her feet being gentle with her as he set her down. 

Bog gave her an awkward smile as he stepped back from her, his step wobbly as he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, just follow me this way, this is Mr. Brown’s garden. We just need to head through his garden to the other side and we’ll be in the park.” 

Marianne nodded. “Okay, lead the way.” 

Bog took her hand again, leading her over to the other side of the yard where they repeated their fence hopping, this time landing in a a small space between Mr. Brown’s tall fence and a slatted fence that surrounded a dark park. 

Bog hopped over the fence; his long legs made it easy for him to simply step over it. He turned to offer Marianne his hand. She took his hand and crawled over the shorter fence and the two of them started to walk into the park--still holding hands. 

The park was dark; a few streetlamps ran along the edge of the park, but the light didn’t penetrate the gloom with much effect. The rest of the park lay in heavy shadows, the trees and playground dim shadows in the darkness. As they walked into the center of park, Marianne’s eyes adjusted to the lack of light and she began to see the shapes of trees more distinctly, the shape of the slides, swings, and the park benches and tables scattered here and there. 

The night was quiet, though she could hear the sound of the water and the soft breeze through the trees. She swung Bog’s hand in a gentle manner while they walked. She could feel him swerve a little once and awhile, tipsy, but not flat out drunk. She smiled, helping to keep him walking a moderately straight line. 

“This is nice here,” she whispered. She wasn’t really sure why she whispered, but it felt as if she spoke in a normal tone, she would break the spell that hovered over the place. 

Bog smiled. “When I was a child this wasn’t a park. It was land owned by an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Selkirk. They hadn’t any children of their own, but they would let all the town’s children play on their land as long as we were respectful. When they passed, they left the land to the town with the request it be made into a park with a proper playground.” Bog smiled. “I was sixteen then; I didnae play anymore, but I came here for the dedication of the park.” 

Marianne whispered, “That was sweet of them.” 

“Aye it was. They were a sweet couple. Always gave me shelter when I was hiding from bullies.” He chuckled. “Mrs. Selkirk didn’t put up with any bullying. If’n my Mam wasn’t around, I knew I could always run here. That was. until I stopped running and fought back.” 

They were quiet as they walked when Bog stopped by the playground. “You want to swing?” 

Marianne giggled. “Yes!” 

They both laughed and hurried over to the swing set. Marianne claimed one of the swings with Bog plopping down next to her on his, though he started laughing and held his legs out in front of him. “I’m afraid my swing is grounded. Legs are just too long.” He mock pouted as Marianne began to swing. 

“Oh poo, just tuck your legs!” Marianne laughed. 

Bog did as she instructed, but his feet kept dragging the ground. He started laughing maybe a little more than necessary, the drink in his system making him overly humored by his predicament. “Nope, just too long.” 

Bog stood up and instead went to stand behind her, giving her a push. Marianne giggled and squealed. “WEE!!” 

She threw her legs out as Bog gave her a hefty push. He laughed watching her as she leaned back stretching her legs to the sky. He pressed his teeth into his bottom lip watching her. She was so beautiful, her smile could light up the darkness, and he realized he was in love, not falling, but already there. At this moment he knew that Marianne completely had his heart. 

He smiled while he pushed her. “You were really good back there, ya have quite a swing on ya Marianne.” 

She giggled kicking her legs out. “I took a self-defense class once, though the instructor told me I was a little too aggressive. I guess I like to punch things that annoy me.” 

Bog laughed. “I’ll make sure not to annoy you. Ye have a mean right hook…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Very sexy.” 

Marianne blinked. She didn’t think Bog meant her to hear that last bit, but she did. She blushed, smiling. He thought she was sexy... 

She arched back after he pushed her again, holding on and she leaned back to smile at him upside down. Bog laughed giving her another push when she came swinging back. 

Marianne laughed. “Let’s see how high I can go!!” 

Bog chuckled. “Okay, but be careful. Want me to catch you?” 

Marianne giggled. “I’m going going to see how far I can jump!!” 

Bog smiled giving her another push. “Just be careful.” 

Marianne laughed and a second later let go and jumped. Bog watched her with a laugh. She squealed and landed on her feet before falling backwards with a gasp, scattering playground pebbles as she did. 

Bog hurried over to her, wobbled a bit as he looked down at her “Marianne? You all right?” 

Marianne lay on her back laughing. “I’m fine--come here!” 

She leaned up and grabbed his hand, yanking him down to the ground with her. Bog laughed falling to his knees before he flopped onto his back next to her. They could see the stars above them, bright and numerous. The sky was clear on this chilly evening and the stars looked like they went on forever. 

Marianne smiled, catching her breath. She could feel the warmth radiating off Bog, his shoulder touching hers as he scooted closer. She reached over blindly for his hand and laced her fingers with his, leaning closer so that her shoulder was pressed against his, her head tilted to touch against his head. 

They were both quiet, staring up at the stars for a long time before Marianne spoke. The chill had grown stronger and she could see her breath when she spoke. 

“You know, we could go ahead and pretend to get married. Your great grandfather isn’t wrong Bog--he might not be here next year. You never know…we just make sure we get the paperwork, tell your family that we’ll be the ones to drop it off to be filed...and simply don’t. No one gets hurt and your family gets the wedding they want...” Her words were soft, her fingers tight against his, but she kept looking up at the stars. 

Bog frowned, but he didn’t look over at her. “I just...I don't know...I’ve lied so much already that just seems like one lie too much.” 

Marianne frowned and turned to look at his profile. He was also frowning while he stared up at the stars. She could see the dried blood on his face from the fight, at the corner of his mouth, smeared under his nose, and down along his cheek, but the small wounds and blood did nothing to distract from how attractive he was, how handsome his sharp profile was, his long nose, and chin... 

She dragged her top teeth over her bottom lip. She was in love with Bog King, she realized in that moment. Right then, she had fallen completely over the edge into fully being in love with the man. She swallowed as the realization washed over her, she wasn’t sure what to do now. She closed her eyes before she whispered. “Bog?” 

He turned to look at her. “It wouldn’t end with that you know? A wedding. There would be holidays when they either want to visit, or us to visit them. Then I know my Mam wants grandchildren…” He frowned, looking so sad. “I’m such an eejit…” He turned away from her ,starting to pull his hand away. “I’m such a fookin idiot…” 

Marianne refused to let his hand go “Bog, stop.” 

He sighed and turned to look at her. 

Marianne gave him a stern look. “You are not an idiot; you care about making your family happy and maybe this wasn’t the best way to do it, but still...” She shrugged even though the gesture was awkward lying on the ground as they were. “... I’m willing to pretend marry you because I want to make them happy too. I like your family, Bog, I like them a lot. They are so full of love and life and…” She paused with a smile that brightened her face. “I don’t know...I just...maybe I don’t want to give that up either. We can worry about the other stuff later. Right now, let's just focus on their happiness and give your great grandfather a wedding and his birthday. That’ll make the old man cry.” 

Bog stared at her. “You are an amazing woman, Marianne Summerfield.” 

She grinned at him. “I know. So, wanna fake marry me?” 

Bog chuckled. “Fine, you win. Yes, I’ll fake marry you.” 

Marianne giggled and shifted her position so that she was not only right up against him, but she leaned on his chest to look down at him. 

“Bog, how much did you have to drink?” 

He grinned up at her. The moon’s light and the stars glittered behind her head, made her hair look as if it had been star dusted. She looked like a fairy from the old stories, he thought, a beautiful fairy princess. 

“If’n yer asking if I’m minced, nah. I’m just very lightly goosed.” He chuckled. “Like the rest of my family, it takes a lot more than a handful of pints to get me good and thoroughly sloshed.” 

“Mm...are you drunk enough that I could take advantage of you?” Marianne asked with all seriousness while dragging her fingertip over his bottom lip in a slow, gradual stroke. 

Bog stared at her, blinking several times in surprise. 

“What?” he finally said in shock, his voice breathy with surprise that she would say such a thing to him of all people. 

Marianne laughed while her eyes followed her finger along his bottom lip before she looked into his startling blue eyes. “You really are adorable.” 

She leaned down and kissed him. 

Bog made a sound that was half muffled surprise, half desire, and only a fraction of stinging pain from his split lip. His hands were beside him on the ground, dug into the playground pebbles. After a few seconds of their slow kissing, Marianne pressed against him, her hand moved along the side of his throat, her fingertips caressed his skin, just under his ear in a way that made his heart beat hard and fast. Marianne’s attentions made a comfortable warmth wash over him; he felt relaxed and tense at the same time, burning, every one of his nerve endings sizzled in delight at her touch. He reached up, his hands moving slow in case he was reading this situation incorrectly--or this was a dream and if he touched her Marianne would disappear--but finally his hands rested on her warm body. He traced the delicious curve of her spine, and then his hands slid back down to her hips, squeezing. She was indeed real. Bog reached up with one hand to cradle the back of her head, his fingers threading into the soft locks of her hair while his mouth opened against hers, inviting her tongue further into his mouth. 

Marianne moved to straddle him, pressing her body against his, feeling his attraction between her legs. She kissed him with vigor, could taste a hint of blood and alcohol on his lips, but the flavors only intensified her desire. One of her hands slid into his hair, her fingers tangling in the thickness of his black hair. She didn’t know if it was the fight or her building passion for Bog, but she leaned more into kissing him. Her tongue glided over his, traced his teeth, bit his bottom lip, and ignored the sting of her own split lip, that pain quickly forgotten in the heat of her kissing. 

Bog’s groan was a soft sign of desire; any pain he felt vanished with his excitement in kissing Marianne. His hands wrapped around to grasp her rear as Marianne ground down on him. He held onto her with desperation, one hand sliding down to grasp the back of her thigh, pulling her closer before his fingers drifted up again, under her shirt until he felt her silken soft skin. When Marianne felt his bare fingers on her skin she made a soft moan. She had never wanted anyone to touch her as much as she wanted Bog to touch her. She wanted to feel his fingers against her skin; everywhere over her. When she moved, rubbing herself against him, the shiver that raced up her spine made her groan again. She wanted more from Bog. She had never in her life felt lust like this before Bog. Bog had her lusting for him like she was in heat and it was all so good she thought briefly. 

The way she rubbed against Bog was enough to make him shudder, made his groin ache. His hands were now both under her shirt, traveling up to her bra. He traced the strap while he kissed her, feeling goosebumps across her skin. His fingers brushed the lace along the side of her bra, and Marianne gasped in pleasure. He stroked the swell of one of her breasts, tracing the line of her bra under her breast, the heat of her skin transferring through the thin cloth. He wanted to cup her breasts, to feel them in his hands. 

She reached down, her fingers tugging at his shirt, needing to touch his skin when they both heard the soft tread of footsteps on the grass. There was a split second between them both hearing the sound, their eyes popping wide open and staring at each other when a flashlight washed over them followed by a voice calling out. 

“Awright!!! Ye weans need tae git yer arses hame 'n' nae be snogging oot 'ere in th' pairk!!” 

Bog sat up, holding Marianne close to him. The light shone right in his face and the voice gasped. “Bog King is you? Yer Mam said ye wur back hame.” 

Bog shielded his eyes. “Hello Mr. Cumming, you still guarding the park?” 

The man walked with a slow gait, coming into view after he aimed his light down. The man was dressed in tweed pants and jacket with a red scarf looped around his neck and large, round black glasses framing his eyes. His hair was mostly white, though there were still streaks of black in it. He smiled at the two of them. 

“Ye mist be th' American lassie a' body is talking aboot!” Mr. Cumming came over with is hand out. 

Marianne twisted around, pulling her shirt down at the same time. “It’s a pleasure Mr. Cumming. I’m Marianne.” 

Mr. Cumming shook her hand vigorously with a bright smile. “Yer bonny lassie! Tis sae crakin' tae see oor Bog getting merrit finally.” 

Bog held Marianne while he got to his feet, gently putting her down, though he kept his arm around her. His face was red, Marianne could see in the indirect light from the flashlight. 

“Weel ah mind whit tis lik' tae be young 'n' in loue bit ye twa need tae git oan hame instead o' bein' oot 'ere snoggin' in th' pairk.” The older man laughed. “Noo aff wi' ye!” 

Bog smiled taking Marianne’s hand. “‘Night Mr. Cumming!” 

Marianne waved as she and Bog hurried out of the park both of them giggling. “Good nght Mr. Cumming!” 

The older man waved with a shake of his head. “Tae be young 'n' in loue.” 

* 

Marianne laughed. “Oh Bog, I couldn’t understand him at all!” 

Bog chuckled. “Not many people do. He isn’t originally from around here, though he has lived here my entire life.” 

Marianne giggled. 

They made their way back to the main road and started back home, swinging their hands between them. 

Bog was quiet, but he was smiling. After a minute of walking in silence, he said, “So, I’ll tell my Mam and Da in the morning that we’ll git married this week…” He swallowed, looking down at his feet for a moment before his eyes slid over to her. “Yer sure about this?” 

Marianne nodded. “Absolutely.” 

He squeezed her hand. “Thank you Marianne.” 

She smiled with tender affection in her eyes and squeezed his hand. “It’ll be wonderful Bog, I promise.” 

Bog lifted his eyebrows. “I hope so. I hope everything goes as planned.” 

Marianne seemed confident. “It will.” 

* 

When they arrived back at the house, it was still empty, though the lights were on. Bog opened the door (his parents having left it unlocked) and walked inside. 

Bog turned. “You hungry? I could make us a couple of sandwiches...since we didn’t have dinner...might help with the hangover I’m probably gonna have...or I might warm up what my Mam made…” 

“Sandwiches sounds good.” Marianne grinned. “I’ll help.” 

They made their way into the kitchen with Bog pointing at the bread box on the counter. “Bread should be in there. Let me see what Mam has in the fridge…” 

He opened the door to look while Marianne pulled a couple of plates down (after searching a few cabinets). In the bread box she found some rye bread, some rolls, and and what might have been oat bread, but she wasn’t sure. She pulled all of them out and laid them on the cabinet top while Bog held up some things he found in the fridge. “All right; we have smoked salmon spread, sliced pork, mayo. Mmm...cheese, Mam has some cheddar and swiss…” 

“A cheese sandwich sounds good,” Marianne said with a smile. 

Bog grinned. “A cheese sandwich it is, my lady.” 

Bog caught himself and frowned. “Sorry.” 

Marianne grinned at him. “Don’t be--I like it.” 

Bog blushed a number of shades of red as he set the cheese on the counter and busied himself with looking for a cheese slicer. They made their sandwiches, moving together as if they had always been together. Bog pulled a couple of Irn-Bru’s from the fridge and handed one to Marianne. They leaned against the counter with their food, both of them realizing how hungry they were. 

Bog grinned at her and held his soda up. “To our fake wedding?” 

Marianne giggled. “To our fake wedding.” 

They tapped the tops of the bottles together with a laugh before taking a drink. Bog gazed at the top of his drink before looking up at her. “I...ah...I’m glad ye came for me.” 

Marianne’s smile was soft, beautiful, Bog thought and suppressed a sigh of delight. “I’ll always be there for you Bog.” 

They stared at each other, lost in each others eyes, not realizing they were once more moving closer together. Bog set his drink aside, then placed his hand on her hip to draw Marianne closer. Marianne did the same, set her drink down, laid both hands on his chest, raised up on her toes. Her eyes moved from the intense blue of his gaze to the fullness of his mouth. She was just about to kiss him again, her lips hovering near his, the excitement and passion building and wondering where tonight might lead when a sharp bang startled them as the front door was thrown open, followed by loud voices. 

Paden was laughing. “Did ya see that old prick, Billy Glen? Didn't think I still had it, but I showed him!” 

Brutus was laughing too. “Ya did, ya did. I will say, never seen a man with a cane move like that.” 

Brodie chuckled. “Ya weren't too bad yerself Da.” 

Alfie chuckled. “Well, they say Am mac mar an t-athair!” 

Sunny laughed. “No one can end a fight like my sean-seanair!” 

Dawn laughed. 

Griselda snorted. “Yer all a bunch of children.” 

Bog and Marianne turned as the group came into the kitchen. 

Griselda gasped. “There ya both are! Oh my GOD Bog, look at yer face! Marianne yer knuckles!” Griselda hurried over grabbing at them both and examining their injuries. “All right both of ye upstairs and shower. I grabbed some aspirin at Tesco just the other day that you can take now go.” 

Marianne chuckled and grasped Bog’s hand. “Yes Mam.” 

Dawn piped up. “You were incredible sis! Both you and Bog. Sunny and I got to see part of it--it was awesome.” 

Sunny grinned. “Ya both were pretty impressive.” 

Bog chuckled at Sunny. “I caught sight of you getting a few good ones in.” 

Sunny blushed as Dawn chirped. “He’s my hero.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together on a giggle, watching the way her sister was gazing at Sunny. There was definitely something going on there she needed to ask her little sister about. Griselda stopped her fussing and beamed at Marianne. “Oh, my dear girl!” She grabbed Marianne’s face in both hands giving Marianne a loud kiss on the forehead. She was smiling from ear to ear, the glimmer of tears in Griselda’s eyes. “Oh, ye are such a dear. All right--off with ye both upstairs.” 

Griselda turned on the others as Bog and Marianne disappeared. “Now for the lot of you, let’s take an inventory of yer injuries ye pack of langers.” 

* 

Sunny walked Dawn up to her room. He smiled holding both her hands as they stood in the doorway of her bedroom. “Well, tonight didn’t go exactly as I had planned.” His tone was quiet. 

Dawn smiled at him, squeezing his hands. “It was fun. I’ve never been in a bar fight before.” Sunny was certain that a mischievous twinkle brightened her blue eyes. He laughed. “I can’t say I’ve never been in one before, but it’s not been that many, I promise.” 

Dawn smiled, looking down at their joined hands. She was blushing and her voice was quiet as she asked. “Would you like to stay the night?” 

Sunny’s eyes snapped to hers in surprise. “Dawn I...I don’t…” 

Dawn frowned. “It’s all right if…” 

Sunny pulled her close and kissed her before she could finish. It was a slow, passionate kiss in which he took his time. His tongue was gentle in her mouth, twisting with hers in a kiss that made her toes curl and her knees weak. Sunny pulled back, laying his forehead against hers. “I would love to spend the night with you Dawn. I just...I’m not expecting anything. I would be happy to simply hold you while we slept.” 

Dawn smiled. “Oh Sunny. You are so wonderful.” She closed her eyes, leaning against him. “How about we just see where the night takes us?” 

Sunny smiled. “I think that is a grand plan.” 

Together they stepped inside Dawn’s room and closed the door. 

* 

Bog and Marianne took turns showering. They felt like awkward teens, not knowing how to react with each other after the intensity of their kissing and the interruption of what was promising to be another bout of making out in the kitchen. Marianne was sitting on the bed in her pajamas, rubbing the pad of her thumb over her nails trying to decide what to do when Bog stepped out of the bathroom. She swallowed hard, watching stray drops of water travel down his chest and stomach. He was dressed in his sleeping pants, toweling his hair, unaware of what he was doing to her when they heard a knock at the door. 

Marianne hopped up. “I’ll get it.” She was in desperate need of something to do except for lusting after Bog. She opened the door to see Griselda standing at the door with a tray that held tea, biscuits, and a bottle of aspirin. 

Griselda smiled. “I brought up some tea.” She looked directly at her son. “I don’t want ye waking up with the brown bottle blues in the morning. And ya need it.” Her eyes looked pointedly at the cut on his cheek and the swelling on his lips before she transferred her gaze to Marianne, again pointedly looking at the slight swelling on Marianne’s lips and chin. 

Bog looked sheepish. He still felt a hint woozy though the drink had mostly worn off. His head was starting to ache, and his face was hurting. “Thanks Mam.” He stepped over to the doorway and took the tray from her. 

Griselda smiled at them both. “So what are yer plans for tomorrow?” 

Bog had set the tea down and was opening the bottle of aspirin, dropping three into the palm of his hand, then handed them to Marianne. He glanced up at his mother, then over to Marianne. “Ah, I thought maybe we’d go look at the castle?” 

Marianne beamed. “Oh, I would love that! I’ve never been to a castle!” 

Griselda nodded. “Excellent, I’ll pack ye both a lunch. And could ya head over to the bakery and see if ye can add three dozen cupcakes to the order? I had some messages that more people are showing up for Paden’s birthday than I thought.” 

Bog nodded. “Sure Mam, no problem.” 

She smiled. “Good. now you two get a good night’s sleep.” 

She left, closing the door gently. 

Bog dropped another three pills into his hand and dry swallowed the aspirin before he spoke. “I know you weren’t drinking, but I saw the couple of hits you took.” He motioned at the aspirin in her hand. 

Marianne smiled and gratefully took the aspirin, though she reached for the glass of water on her bedside table to take them. “Thank you.” 

“So, ah, the castle is all right?” Bog asked. 

Marianne nodded. “I’m looking forward to it!” 

Bog smiled at her, his gaze soft. “Good.” 

* 

When they crawled into the bed, they both realized they were more tired than they realized. Bog laid on his back and to his surprise, Marianne snuggled up beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. Bog smiled, adjusting his arm to wrap around her, holding her close while Marianne draped her arm over his chest with a smile. She closed her eyes with a tiny sigh; she had never been so content, so happy in all her life she thought as she drifted off to sleep. 

* 

When Marianne woke in the morning Bog had rolled into her, his arms completely around her, holding her against him, while his lips rested against her forehead. She could feel the roughness of his chin and cheek from needing his morning shave, the warmth of his breath against her skin, the loose way his arms were draped around her, the scent of him; delicious and masculine. She took a quick assessment of her position. Her left leg was settled between his legs, wrapped around his thigh, she could see his erection against the top of her thigh, and her pelvis was almost pressed against his pelvis. His leg was raised up a little, resting against her thigh, and she could feel his bare foot against her skin. She smiled; it was both intimate and erotic. 

She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip to stop herself from giggling. 

She smiled snuggling closer, pressing her nose against his bare chest, squeezing her eyes closed and letting herself enjoy the feel of his skin, the scent of him, just everything about being in his arms when suddenly there was a hard knock followed by the bedroom door opening. 

Bog jumped, sitting up part way, his expression groggy as Marianne did the same. They both looked over to see a bedraggled Griselda standing in her nightgown in the doorway. 

“Mam?” Bog asked in confusion. 

Marianne saw that Griselda looked pale, there were shadows around her eyes. “Yer grandfather just called Bog, they’ve taking Paden to the hospital. He’s had a heart attack.” 

* 

Marianne and Bog dressed quickly, both of them simply throwing on jeans and sweaters before rushing down the stairs to the living room where they found Brodie, sitting on the recliner looking pale, his lips pressed into a thin line. It was clear the older man was upset and trying to hold himself together. Griselda was on the phone speaking in a low voice to someone and Dawn was sitting on the couch with tears in her eyes while Sunny held her close. Sunny was in the clothing he had been wearing earlier while Dawn was dressed much like Bog and Marianne, except that her hair was a mess from sleeping. 

For a moment Marianne wondered how Sunny had gotten here so fast. And then it occurred to her that Sunny must have spent the night. She was under the impression he lived farther away or was staying somewhere else. She could be wrong, but...she would have to ask her sister later, but now was not the time. 

Griselda hung up turning to everyone. “That was grandma Alice. She says they are at the Dumfries and Galloway Royal Infirmary. Paden’s stable.” 

Brodie murmured. “Thank the lord.” 

Bog walked over and hugged his father. Brodie reached up with one hand and hugged his son. “That old man is a fookin tough old cunt,” Brodie murmured with a sad smile. “If anyone can make it through this, it would be him.” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, he is a tough old cunt.” 

Griselda took a deep breath. “If’n you all are ready, let's get down to the hospital.” 

* 

The ride to the hospital was quiet, everyone worried and lost in thought. 

When they all arrived at the hospital, once the name King was given, their small group was taken up to the floor where Paden was being kept. 

Paden was set up in a nice room--without a roommate--which was good consdering the size of Bog’s family. Alice and Alfie were there along with Brutus, Bick, Hattie and a couple of more cousins that Marianne only vaguely remembered seeing at the welcome home party. She was beginning to resign herself to the fact that she would never fully know each member of Bog’s family because new members kept popping up. 

The newest cousins (she wasn’t sure on whose side) were a young, short man with large round glasses named Theo and his wife Stephanie, who was both tall and rather...built. Along with them was a young man with snow white hair (maybe dyed that color she couldn’t be sure) who someone in the room said was named Iain. There were a few people there she did remember seeing from the party, but names were becoming a blur to her. Marianne was also surprised that this many of them were being allowed into the hospital room, especially this early in the morning, surprised enough that she whispered to Bog. 

“Why are they letting us all in here?” 

Bog shrugged. “Everyone in town knows my great grandda. He’s the oldest man in town and he would probably kick their arses if they didn’t.” 

Marianne smiled with a light laugh. “Is it good for him to have so much company so soon after a heart attack?” 

Bog shrugged. “I dinnae know, but I do know that he would make their lives a misery if they dinnae give him his way.” 

As the small crowd parted, Marianne could see Paden was lying in the hospital bed, dressed in a pale blue hospital gown, monitors on his chest and an IV in his arm. He was a slender man, like nearly all the King men (except Brutus), but lying in the hospital bed the old man looked smaller, older. However, when Paden saw them, his blue eyes lit up and he waved them over; even lifting his hand looked to be an effort for the aged man. 

“The lot of you, get the fook out of the way! I wanna speak with Bog.” Paden’s voice was weak, but everyone made room for Bog and Marianne to approach his bed. The old man looked pale, though his eyes were bright and alert. 

Paden grinned reaching out for both of them. “Ah there the both of ye are. Two lovely children.” 

Bog took his great grandfather’s hands in his hands, held them in a firm grip. “How are you doing? I’m sorry about last night…” 

Paden shook his head. “It’s fine Bog.” 

Alfie spoke up. “The doctor said he is stable, but he needs to be careful--he needs a lot of rest. At his age…” Alfie’s voice choked a moment on the words, but his father smiled. “Ah now, stop with all of that. I’ll be fine. The doctor says with good behavior they might let me go home in a day or two, but Bog, Marianne...I...I need to talk to you. The rest of ye get out for a bit. Well except you Brodie and Griselda, I want ye both here too.” Paden motioned at the room full of relatives. “The rest of ye out!” 

It took a few minutes to get everyone out of the room, but soon the four of them were alone with Paden. 

Bog frowned down at the old man, his mind racing to the thought that Paden had been lying for the sake of the rest of the family, that his condition was far worse than they knew. “What’s wrong?” Bog looked sick with worry, his grip on Paden’s hands tightening a fraction. Marianne knew Bog was probably blaming himself after the fight he had with his great grandfather, that somehow that fight contributed to his great grandfather’s heart attack. She stood next to Bog, her shoulder against his arm, giving him silent support. Bog glanced over at her with a grateful smile. Paden smiled leaning back against his pillows. “Nothing boy, just--I got a request. Now I know yer against rushing and all, but…” He frowned, looked down for a moment. His hands in Bog’s looked so frail Marianne thought, before the old man continued, his voice soft. “Bog, I don’t know how long I got...this could have been it and I would have gone to me grave not seeing my favorite great grandchild married. That’s the one thing I want to do before I go is to see you settled and happy Bog, with yer Marianne. So I’m asking ye, asking both of ye, as a favor to an old, dying man, would ye consider getting married on me birthday? It would give this old man something to focus on, something to help me in getting better. A goal, if ya will.” 

Paden looked between them, his blue eyes were sad yet hopeful. Marianne’s heart broke. She would do anything, she realized then, to make Paden happy. She bit her bottom lip while looking up at Bog’s profile. She could see how upset he was in the lines around his eyes and mouth. She wanted to do nothing more than to hold Bog and tell him that everything was going to be all right. She wanted to kiss Bog, hold him...marry him. She said nothing. Although they had already decided to go ahead with a fake wedding for his great grandfather’s sake, having the old man in the hospital like this brought home some urgency to the wedding and how important their getting married was to his great grandfather, to the family... 

Griselda was listening and watching Bog, Marianne and Paden while holding her breath. She hated to see Bog and Marianne forced into marrying like this, but on the other hand...a wedding! A wedding would help Paden get better, help the old man focus on the additional event along with his birthday and their usual St. Patrick’s day celebration this weekend. It would be just the ticket to get the old man moving for another hundred years. Griselda waited for Bog and Marianne’s response. 

Brodie glanced at his wife. He could see she was nearly vibrating, waiting for Bog and Marianne’s answer. He sighed with a smile. Getting their only son married had been his wife’s goal from the moment Bog graduated high school. It wasn’t just that she wanted grandchildren, but she desperately wanted Bog to be happy, to find a companion to stand by him, to help him, love him. Brodie wanted all that for his son too. Bog had suffered through his childhood, and the boy deserved a young woman who could see how special he was...and Brodie was convinced Marianne was that person. Now whether they married or not didn’t make a difference to him, as long as they were happy. But his Griselda wanted that wedding, she wanted to see her boy in his kilt, standing at the end of an aisle waiting for the woman of his dreams. He shrugged. He supposed he wanted it too, so he grinned and waited. 

Bog pressed his lips together, looking over at Marianne. She smiled giving him an encouraging nod. He still felt the heavy weight of guilt, but... 

Bog smiled at Marianne before he nodded. “Aye, we’ll do it.” 

Paden grinned, Griselda let out a barely subdued yelp of joy, and Brodie laughed. “Well, this is going to be a busy next few days.” 

Griselda clapped her hands. “Oh now, don’t worry about a thing. I can help whip a beautiful wedding together in no time at all. Grandda, you think you’ll be out of the hospital in time?” 

Paden snorted. “They’ll have to sedate me if they think I won’t be attending my favorite grandson’s wedding!” 

Bog chuckled. “I’m not your favorite.” 

Paden smiled back. “Ye are this week, boy.” 

Griselda grabbed Marianne in an embrace. “Oh, we’ll have to go and look at dresses today! Sorry Bog dear, you’ll have to give up yer bride for today so we can go dress shopping.” 

Bog frowned then, but Brodie spoke up. “Well, I suppose we should go and get you a kilt son, and you’ll have to figure out who yer best man will be. We don’t have a lot of time.” 

Paden grinned. “I’ll have to put a call in about speeding up the paperwork too...oh and we’ll get Minister Fergus O’Keefe, he’ll be overjoyed.” 

Griselda smiled. “Oh you could have it down at the church or we could set something up in the garden…” 

Bog suddenly looked panicked as the realization that their tiny lie had grown into a gigantic monster that was about to eat both him and Marianne alive. He glanced at Marianne, worried that she would realize what a huge mistake all of this was, the entire scam, the lie to his family about their engagement, being with him in general...kissing him…and now being forced into a fake wedding... 

Marianne smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist. She laid her chin against his chest looking up at him with her golden brown eyes. “This will be fun Bog, don’t worry.” She gave him a gentle smile. “Don’t worry Bog,” she repeated. He gazed down at her, reaching up to stroke the back of his knuckles across her cheek. “You are a wonderful woman Marianne.” 

She blushed. “You’re a wonderful man Bog.” 

He looked pained for a moment before he whispered. “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he hugged her. 

Marianne gave herself over to the warmth of his hug, the scent of him surrounding her, the feel of his arms around her made her feel safe, warm...loved? She smiled squeezing back before she stepped away from him and turned to Griselda. “I would love to go dress shopping today.” 

Paden grinned, clapping his hands. “All right, then it's settled, we’re going to have a King wedding!” 

* 

Dawn continued to stare at her sister as if Marianne had grown a second head. They were back at the house, sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea before everyone tried to take a couple of hours’ nap before the ladies set off for dress shopping and Bog, his father, and Sunny went kilt shopping. (Bog had asked Sunny on the way home to be his best man and his cousin had accepted.) Bog was in the back garden with his father and Sunny. Even though it was dark, they were giving the garden a quick look since they had decided on the way home that the garden would be the best place for their wedding. 

“So are you getting…” Dawn leaned close since Griselda was in the kitchen looking for biscuits. “...really married?” 

Marianne shook her head, but Dawn picked up on the sad tone to her sister’s words. “No. We figure if we can get the paperwork from the minister...we simply won’t file it.” 

Dawn stared at her sister, then whispered. “You’re really in love with him aren’t you?” 

Marianne glanced at Griselda in the kitchen, who was now on her cellphone, and from the sound of it she was speaking with Alice. Marianne’s eyes went to her tea; she stared at the cup before answering. “Yes.” 

Dawn squeaked, but covered her mouth with her hands. She hissed from behind her fingers. “Oh gosh Marianne! You’re in love!” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah...yeah I am.” 

“Do you really want to marry him?” Dawn asked with an anxious tone. 

Marianne frowned, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip. “I...I...I don’t know...just…” She sighed, blushing. “I don’t think marrying him would be so bad.” She looked up at Dawn. “I could see myself as Mrs. King, Dawn. I...I think I might really want to marry him. I know the idea that all this might be over soon...” She swallowed. “I can’t imagine not being with Bog…” 

Dawn’s eyes were opened wide, but she was grinning. “What about Bog? How’s he feel?” 

Marianne shrugged. “I don’t know…” 

Dawn giggled. “Oh, well I think he’s in love with you.” 

Marianne smiled at her sister. “You think so?” 

Dawn nodded. “Yeah I do. I’ve seen the way he looks at you…” 

Marianne giggled sipping her tea before she asked. “So...you and Sunny…” 

Dawn turned bright red. “Ah...well…” 

Marianne raised an eyebrow at her sister. 

Dawn covered her face before she whispered. “He stayed the night...BUT before you think anything happened, it didn’t--we just cuddled.” 

“Really?” Marianne gave her a sceptical look. 

“Yes! Only cuddling, but...he asked if I would stay longer, after the week is up…” Dawn looked down at her own cup of tea before she glanced back up at her sister. 

Marianne blinked in surprise. “Do you want to stay?” 

Dawn nodded. “I do! Oh Marianne, he is so different than any guy I have ever dated! He’s just...I don’t know, but being with him is so natural...like being with my best friend, but better…and after only a few days...” 

Marianne blinked then whispered. “Oh Dawn...this is serious isn’t it?” 

Dawn nodded, a crooked smile on her lips. “Yeah, it is. I like him Marianne, more than I have ever liked anyone before…” 

“Well, I think you should stay.” Marianne sipped her tea. 

Dawn bit her lip. “Are you serious? It’s not too soon?” 

Marianne nodded. “Life is short Dawn, if this thing between you and Sunny is real, then you need to go after it with both hands.” 

Dawn’s smile was bright, reminding Marianne of a bright summer day. “Thank you sis.” 

Marianne giggled. “You didn’t need my permission.” 

Dawn shrugged. “No, but it's nice to have it. And by the way...same to you. If Bog is the one, then you better hold on to him. He is going to be scared, I can tell, but if you want him Marianne, you gotta go for it. If he’s in your blood, if he’s the part of you that makes you want to breathe, you gotta tell him, you gotta tell him that you aren’t gonna leave, that you’re always gonna love him…” 

Marianne giggled. “Dawn, are you quoting a song to me?” 

Dawn nodded with a laugh. “Yep and it's true, you gotta make sure he knows how you feel.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah...you’re right…” 

That was the moment that Bog, Sunny, and his father came back in, the father and son talking. “I don’t know about an arch…” Bog was saying as they came into the kitchen. 

Marianne looked up to see Bog, her heart speeding up when she saw him. He glanced at her and smiled, his eyes soft, the smile shy. She didn't notice the same happening to Dawn who was staring at Sunny. Sunny made his way over to Dawn, taking the seat next to her. Dawn scooted closer and Sunny took her hand. 

Griselda spoke up. “What’s this about an arch?” 

Brodie ran a hand over his hair. “Well, I was thinking they could get married under an arch near where we have the heather growing. I saw some arches at the rental place, remember when we went down there to rent those tables for Sibyl’s party last year?” 

Griselda frowned then nodded. “Oh yes! I remember that, they had this circle one with the flowers!” 

Bog glanced at Marianne. “Would you like a flowered arch?” 

Griselda tapped her chin. “We would have to decide on your colors and what flowers, but we could do real or fake. Between me, Hattie and Alice, I’m sure we could grab a few of the younger women and have that arch looking fabulous!” 

Marianne smiled, her eyes on Bog. “Sure, if you like the idea Bog?” 

Bog gazed at Marianne, his voice soft. “Whatever you would like would make me happy, Marianne.” 

Griselda looked between the two of them grinning as she saw the lovestruck looks in both their eyes. Marianne blushed. “I think an arch would be lovely.” 

Griselda clapped her hands, startling everyone. “Well then, Brodie luv, while yer out later ye can stop by the rental and get us that arch. Now, I think everyone should hurry up stairs and get a quick nap. Today is going to be a busy day.” 

* 

When they returned upstairs Bog flopped onto the bed with a groan, dropping back and laying his arm over his eyes with a groan. “Bloody fooking hell.” 

Marianne closed the door, coming over to sit beside him. She gazed down at him resisting the urge to rub his thigh. “You okay?” 

He moved his arm enough that he could look at her with one eye. “Aye, just…” He closed his eyes for a moment before he answered. “Just glad my great grandda's all right. I know he isn’t going to be around forever, but...” 

Marianne laid down next to Bog, on her side, resting her head on her arm. “I understand Bog.” 

He turned to face her, dropping his arms to his stomach where he laced his fingers together. “You all right? My Mam is going to have you rushing all over town and beyond…” 

Marianne smiled. “It’ll be fun.” 

“Well, you get what you want. I don’t want you worrying about the cost. I’ll cover everything,” Bog stated with a firm nod. 

Marianne whispered. “Bog are you..?” 

Bog gazed at her; his blue eyes were soft, and there was a glow in them that made Marianne’s heart twist. When he spoke his voice was soft, tender. “Thank you. You are going above and beyond what I asked.” 

Marianne smiled. “I like your family Bog.” She frowned for a moment, thinking about what Dawn has said to her; if she loved him, she needed to tell him. Marianne sucked on her bottom lip, the words on the tip of her tongue… 

Bog stared with longing at Marianne. He loved her. He kept saying the words to himself, floating through his mind like leaves caught by a gentle breeze. He was in love with her, but he didn’t know if he could tell her. What if him telling her how he felt made her hate him? What if she got angry? He frowned. There was no way someone as beautiful, wonderful, and special like Marianne could ever love a man like him. Friends? Maybe, but that was probably it. So Bog kept his lips sealed on his feelings. It would be better to keep his love to himself because he didn’t want to lose her as a friend--he didn’t want her to hate him. 

Bog pushed himself up. “We really should grab a couple of hours sleep, it's going to be busy.” 

Marianne pushed herself up as well. “Yeah, you’re right.” She grinned. “I’m getting my wedding dress today.” 

Bog smiled laying his hand over hers where their hands rested between them. They stared at each other, neither moving right away. Marianne didn’t know what she was doing as she stared at Bog, but her sister’s words kept repeating in her mind, show him how you feel... 

Marianne reached up with her free hand and caressed the side of Bog’s neck. Her thumb gently traced his cheek, caressing the corner of his lips. She leaned toward him, pressed her lips together, staring at his lips before she drew him closer. She didn’t go for his lips, but instead Marianne scooted closer and pressed her lips to the side of his throat. 

Bog’s eyes rolled closed at her touch, the feel of her lips on his throat made his body jerk, his fingers over her other hand tightened. 

Marianne scooted herself closer still until she was almost on Bog’s lap, their legs touching. She took a soft, shuddering breath just before her lips danced over his throat with a sweet, soft tickle followed by a more firm press of her lips against his throat, followed by a careful press of her teeth into his skin. She could feel his rapid pulse against her lips before she added a swirling lick of her tongue just under the soft, sensitive place under and behind Bog’s ear. The feel of his pulse, the softness of his skin caused a flash flood of hot desire to race over her. Marianne’s entire body wanted him, a deep ache settling in that was both delicious and agonizing. She had never wanted anyone the way she wanted Bog and she didn’t really know what to do with any of her feelings. The moan that Bog made when she kissed his throat only made every one of those sensations racing through her body intensify. His moan was the most erotic sound she had ever heard. 

Bog made another soft moan, leaning into her attentions. He shivered at the feel of Marianne’s lips, nipping and licking his throat with just enough pressure to make all the blood in his body burn. Goosebumps raced over his skin, his senses were flooded with her scent, the feel of her hand against his throat. Her thumb moved in a slow caress against his skin, combined with the shivering caress of her tongue and lips on his flesh, and moved along the pulse in his throat. Blood rushed hot through him, and his erection throbbed hard inside his pants, an ache like he had never felt before. 

“Marianne…” He said her name in a husky tone, mixed with a moan of pleasure. 

Marianne shivered at the sound of her name being moaned by Bog at the same time she dragged her lips up to bite at his ear, which earned her a throaty groan from Bog. She kissed his cheek smiling, his reactions making her brave. She moved her lips to his mouth, but didn’t quite kiss him; instead she studied his face. His eyes were closed, his features relaxed. She loved every detail of his face, his sharp cheekbones, the long, sharp point of his nose, his beautifully shaped lips, which were parted and just begging for her kiss. The second lasted forever, the sight of his mouth, the aching pleasure on his face all made Marianne wonder what having sex with him would be like. She knew without a doubt it would be an intense experience and she knew she wanted to find out. 

Marianne dropped her mouth down to his, kissed him, followed by an urgent lick of her tongue. 

Bog melted into her, his mouth open and welcoming her tongue. His hand went to her waist as Marianne wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissed him deeply, her mouth moving over his in a sensual caress. 

They both eased themselves back down to the bed, Marianne on her back with Bog rolling partly on top of her. Their kisses intensified, deeper and hungry. Marianne’s hands went into Bog’s thick black hair, her leg coming up to wrap around one of his when Bog leaned into her, leaning on his elbow, his fingers combing through her hair while other his hand caressed her throat before he dragged the tips of his fingers along her throat to her collarbone in a slow gesture. His fingers traced down over her sweater to the swell of her breast. 

Marianne made a soft moan, arched her chest, willing him to touch her. Bog obeyed her, his hand sliding over her breast, cupping her breast over her sweater, holding her in his palm with a gentle squeeze. She whimpered in response, moaning at the same time her hand traced down his throat to Bog’s shoulder. She squeezed before her hand caressed his arm while she arched her back, moaning against his mouth. Bog responded by squeezing her breast at the same time his thumb brushed across the fabric of the sweater, caressing her hard nipple that was hidden by a layer of sweater and bra. Marianne groaned deeply again, the feel of his touch was electric, the way Bog caressed her nipple sent hot blood rushing through her body in a wave. Her groin ached and her body was begging to feel his bare hands on her skin. 

Bog groaned against her mouth, as if sensing what she wanted. His hand on her breast slid down over her sweater, his fingertip brushing her hard nipple, which he could feel between the layers of fabric.Each time he stroked his fingers or thumb over her nipple, Marianne’s response was instant. She arched, moaned and intensified her kissing. Bog slid his hand away from her breast, down along her torso; when he reached the end of her sweater Bog slid his fingers underneath the material to caress her belly with his fingertips, tracing the edge of her pants, feeling the warmth of her soft skin. 

While they kissed his fingers traveled up until he felt the underwire of her bra before he eased his hand over her breast. He groaned against her lips; the thin material of her bra was all that was between him and her breast. Marianne’s breast fit perfectly in his hand, just big enough for him to cup and squeeze. He could feel the heat from her skin through the bra’s lace, her hard nipple pressing into the palm of his hand. Bog squeezed, made Marianne gasp and arch. He experimented, his fingers brushing over her hard nipple and Marianne’s reaction was a breathy gasp, thrusting her chest toward him. Bog brushed her nipple again, kissing her at the same time he began to slowly run his fingertips around her nipple, tracing a heart shape along them before he stopped to brush only his middle fingers against her nipple in a gentle flick. 

Marianne arched and groaned. The sound would have been loud if not for Bog’s mouth pressed against hers. He was driving her crazy! The way he was playing with the nipple of just one of her breasts was threatening to make her orgasm, something that had never happened just from breast play, but Bog was doing it so well, driving her crazy, sending delicious rippling tickles through her body that caused all the blood to pool at her clitoris, which felt swollen and achy. Bog continued to caress her breast, tantalizing her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra with his forefinger and thumb, then rubbing. Marianne gasped and rolled toward him, her hand gliding down his side until she could wrap her hand around to grab his rear. She pressed her hips toward him and spread her fingers wide to grasp his rear, which was small and tight. Bog responded to her grabbing his rear with a grunt of pleasure; his tone and touching thrilled Marianne. She loved the little sounds he was making, the way he touched her, the way he felt. 

Her hand snaked lower, caressed the back of his thigh, her fingertips tracing the long line of his thigh to feel the muscles underneath his pants. Bog groaned, the sound almost a growl at the same time Bog used his palm to caress her nipple again, followed by a slow squeeze. Marianne responded by dragging her hand along his leg until she was at his hip. She gave his hip a squeeze, feeling the sharp corner of his hip bone. She moaned against his mouth, dropping her hand between them and cupped his groin. She could feel how hard he was through is pants, hard and hot. She purred against him, using her fingertips to caress the outline of his penis, trapped by his pants while her heart rate accelerated. He was thick and long, but not unnaturally so, just the right amount of both it felt like to Marianne. She smiled continuing to move her fingers up and down, tracing the outline of his erection with her fingers, her body aching to know what having him inside her would feel like, just knowing sex with him would be fulfilling, intense...the very thought of him filling her, pressing her muscles down around his shaft combined with the soft caresses of his fingers on her nipple made Marianne tense, an orgasm hovering at the edges... 

Bog grunted at her touch, heat from her hand transferring through his pants to his groin. She kept cupping him, a gentle squeeze followed by tracing her fingers over his swollen member until Bog though he was coming to orgasm. He wanted to, wanted to bury himself inside her, to feel her naked body against his, to suck her nipples between his lips, to feel them against his tongue. But mostly, he wanted to hear Marianne’s moans of pleasure...his breath quickened, her touches bringing him closer… 

Bog pulled away from her, trying to catch his breath. He dropped onto his back. “We need to stop.” 

Marianne blinked in lust addled confusion. “What?” 

Bog pushed himself up. “We should stop...I’m sorry...I never should have…” 

Marianne sat up beside him pulling her sweater down. “Bog you didn’t, I’m the one who started it.” 

Bog rubbed the back of his neck, biting his lip. “I’m sorry...I just…” 

He turned to look at her and swallowed. “I want you so much. I do, but…” 

Marianne nodded. “It’s okay, I understand...your great grandfather…” 

Bog frowned. “The wedding...the lies...I...don’t want you to feel like you should…I don’t know what I’m doing.” Bog slumped and covered his face with his hands. He was in love and he wanted to tell her, wanted her to know, but he was scared, scared of ruining everything because he couldn't keep his heart in check. “God, I’m sorry.” 

Marianne put her arm around him and pulled Bog to her. “Bog, it's all right. I…” She wanted to tell him that she was in love with him, but something was holding her back. Maybe she was scared--she didn’t know--but instead of revealing her feelings, Marianne said in a soft tone, “Let’s just get ready for bed. We can cuddle.” 

Bog smiled at her and nodded. “All right, that sounds good to me.” 

* 

After a couple of minutes, changing clothing and going through the bedtime routines for a second time, Bog laid down in bed on his back. Marianne scooted close and laid her head on his chest, her arm around his waist. She was worried he wouldn't respond, but Bog wrapped his arm around her, his hand rested tenderly on her shoulder. After a few minutes, Marianne dozed off to the sounds of his heartbeat and breathing.


	6. Dresses and Kilts

When Bog and Marianne woke up three hours later to the soft chime of his phone alarm, Bog was on his side again, Marianne’s back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her, his grip protective. Bog didn’t open his eyes, but wanted to stay like this, hovering between the dream world and reality where he felt he could love Marianne without issue, where there was nothing but his love for her. Right now, in the in-between, he didn’t have to fight his own insecurities, he hadn’t lied to his family--it was simply him holding the woman he had fallen in love with. His sigh was soft, filled with longing. 

Bog laid his cheek against her hair, keeping his eyes closed, and his arms tightened a fraction around her. 

Marianne lay awake too, her hands tucked between her cheek and the pillow. She would be content to stay like this all day, she thought to herself. She liked the way his long body fit against hers, the warmth that radiated from him, the scent of his skin, and the feel of his arms around her. She had had vivid dreams last night about Bog...about him naked. Her eyes fluttered open as she worried about what she should do. She wanted to tell him how much she cared, that she had fallen in love with him, but she just wasn’t sure how. She wanted to make sure he believed her, but right now she wasn’t going to think about it. She needed to find a chance to talk to Dawn. Maybe her little sister could help her. 

Marianne snuggled back against Bog; for right now she was simply going to enjoy this moment. She felt Bog raise one hand to stroke his fingers through her hair. She smiled closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. 

Bog smiled and whispered. “Did I wake you?” 

“No, I was awake,” Marianne replied before she rolled over onto her back to look at him. 

Bog loosened his grip to let her move around, but she was pleased to note that he didn’t remove his arms completely. He simply bent one arm up and settled his other hand against her stomach while he rested the side of his face in the palm of his other hand. 

“Sleep all right?” he asked as he turned and awkwardly reached behind him, his fingers finding the phone. He turned back around as he shut off the alarm with is thumb. 

Marianne snuggled a little closer. “I did. You?” 

He nodded and dropped his phone onto the mattress beside her. He gave her a lopsided smile. “You ready for shopping with my Mam?” 

Marianne laughed with a nod. “Yeah. It’ll be fun.” 

Bog laughed. “The words of a woman who has never been shopping with my Mam.” 

Marianne gave him a light smack him on the chest. “Bog! Really!” 

He chuckled and without thinking, kissed her forehead. The moment his lips touched her skin, he realized what he had done and froze. 

Marianne frowned; she hated the way he stiffened. She responded by reaching up to touch his chin with her fingertips. “Bog…” 

She tugged on his chin to make him look down at her. His eyes were so blue, the expression on his face, the way his eyes bored into her took her breath away and the words she wanted to say were lost as she stared at him. He looked...scared...like a dog who had been beaten so many times that any real show of affection made it leery and frightened, afraid that if he responded he was going to get hurt. Marianne reached up to caress the line of his jaw, drawing him down to her at the same time. 

Just when his lips hovered over hers, their eyes locked on each other, Marianne closed the distance, pressing her mouth to his in a soft kiss. Bog made a small, breathy sound, his hand on her stomach slid around to wrap around her and tug her close. Marianne’s fingers snaked into his hair as her mouth opened against his lips. Her tongue caressed once, but Bog opened his mouth to her, and his tongue coiled against and with her tongue in return. She tightened her hold on him, pulling herself closer to him. He leaned into her, gathering her closer still. 

Marianne felt his tension start to ease, his kiss deepening. His tongue moved more freely against hers sending warm, delightful shudders through her body. She smiled as they kissed, her love for him welling up. Her hand glided from his hair to his shoulder and down his bare chest. She could feel his heart beating through the lean muscles of his chest, feel the swell of his excitement against her hip. She made her own soft moan in the back of her throat. She wanted him so much... 

“Are you two up yet??!!” 

Griselda’s voice broke the spell and Bog swallowed, easing back from Marianne, redness spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He glanced at Marianne then toward the closed door before he called out. 

“Aye, we are Mam!” 

She called back. “Oh good. I got breakfast on the table dears. Everyone else is awake, yer Da is waiting for you--you two are going to pick up the rest of the boys to go kilt shopping and then stop at the rental place. I have Hattie, Alice and the rest of the girls coming over here fer dress shopping and maybe stopping at the baker if we have time. They should be here in the next hour 

Marianne and we can get started dress shopping. Oh! And I want to talk about yer hen do as well! So come on down and eat!” 

Bog sighed. “All right Mam--be right down.” 

Marianne giggled snuggling against him. “The rest of the girls? Hen do?” 

Bog chuckled. “Every female member of my family, I’m sorry. And she means yer bachelorette party.” 

Marianne frowned. “How many is that? Bachelorette party?” 

Bog frowned doing a mental count then shrugged. “You know, I’m not sure any more and aye, bachelorette party....” He muttered. “Should have known me Mam wouldn’t ferget that…” He closed his eyes tight. “Ah fook, that means Da and the others are planning my stag too…” 

Marianne giggled and groaned at the same time covering her face with her hands. “Oh no.” 

Bog chuckled. “You have the best end of it, I have to go out with my Da and all the rest, that is going to be half kilt and other shopping trying to make sure they all stay out of the pub.” 

Marianne laughed. “Oh no!” 

Bog grinned at her. “Ye ready to do battle?” 

Marianne laughed. “Yes.” 

Bog smiled reaching up to caress her face with his fingers in a sweet gesture that caused Marianne’s laughter to die gently as she stared at him. He brushed his thumb across her cheek. 

“Remember, get any dress you want, no matter the cost. I’ll pay fer all of it, the rush fitting...all the accessories. I want you to be happy.” 

“Bog, you…” Marianne began, but he laid a finger against her lips. 

“I know...but I want you to be happy. That’s more important than the money, that I have plenty of and can make more, this is your fake wedding dress.” He said the last bit with a humorous glint in his eyes. “I want you to have the dress of yer dreams Marianne.” 

Marianne nodded. “Okay.” She pressed her lips together for a moment before she spoke. “Bog...I...I want to tell you something important…” 

His brows lifted a fraction. She could see the fear creeping into his eyes. She smiled at him and brushed her fingertips across his lips. “I wanted to tell you that I…” 

A loud knock sounded at the door, followed by Dawn’s voice. “Marianne hurry up!! People are arriving and you two aren’t going to get anything to eat if you don’t hurry!” 

Marianne groaned. “I’m coming!! Geez!” 

She heard her sister laugh. “Hey, Griselda sent me, so don’t shoot the messenger!” 

Marianne smiled at Bog. “Guess we better get going.” 

Bog nodded. “Aye.” 

This time when he kissed her forehead she noticed he remained relaxed before he sat up and walked to the bathroom. She watched him go, biting her bottom lip. That was it, she was telling him tonight when they were alone--she was in love with him. 

* 

In the bathroom Bog stared at himself in the mirror for a moment. He glared at his reflection, then hissed. “Don’t be a fooking coward Bog King, you tell that girl how you feel about her.” He glared hard at himself before he closed his eyes. “Ugh...I am a bloody coward.” He sighed and dropped his forehead against the mirror. “Fooking coward and an idiot,” he whispered. He was quiet for a few long seconds before he muttered. “I’m going to tell her, tonight...I have to...because fookin hell--I love her.” 

He turned on the water in the sink and splashed his face. Maybe a stiff drink at the pub before coming home would be a good idea...never hurt to have a little liquid strength when you were about to lay your soul bare. 

* 

Marianne had a hard time paying attention to the room full of people. Hattie and Alice were over along with Stephanie, and a few cousins and other female members of the King family. A couple had infants, one young woman had a toddler, Marianne assumed the rest were in school or being babysat, but there were roughly fifteen women in all. The men were slower coming over with Brodie, Beck, Brutus, Iain, Theo...she was sure there were people here that she hadn’t seen before, which made her wonder if new King family members just sprang into existence, because it certainly felt that way. Her eyes were on Bog where he leaned against the kitchen wall holding his cup of tea, one ankle causally crossed over the other. He looked...wow she thought. He was dressed for a day of shopping, comfortable in a pair of denim jeans that hugged his long legs, some beat up looking lace up brown boots, and a plain white t-shirt. He had grabbed a beat up looking old black leather jacket; his attire along with his black hair and blue eyes...she bit the corner of her lower lip; the lust in her gaze was plain as day. 

Dawn elbowed her sister in the side. “Stop it Marianne, you look like you’re about to eat him alive.” Dawn giggled. 

Marianne blushed. “That obvious?” 

Dawn nodded with a grin. “Yeah, you’re pretty much radiating lust.” 

Marianne blushed and looked down at her tea. “Sorry.” She narrowed her eyes, glancing over at her sister. “So I noticed Sunny was here already this morning…again.” 

Dawn’s cheeks and forehead turned red. “Not another word.” 

Marianne tilted her head, her eyes asking more than her actual words. “Did you…?” 

Dawn pressed her lips together. “No--just more snuggling…” Dawn had a what Marianne determined was a goofy look on her face, with her cheeks red and her eyes that had stars in them. 

“Ah! So he did spend the night!” Marianne grinned. 

Dawn wrinkled her nose at her. “That was evil.” 

Marianne laughed taking a sip of her tea. “So, you think you two are going to...soon..?” She lifted her eyebrows in question. 

Dawn blushed looking a little annoyed. “I want to, but he is such a gentleman…” 

Marianne laughed and lifted her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter down. 

Dawn wrinkled her nose in annoyance at her sister before she leaned in close and whispered. “What about you and Bog? I’m assuming since you look like you’re about to pounce him and rip his clothes off, nothing is happening with you either?” 

Marianne flushed and nodded. “No...I mean almost, last night, but he stopped…” Marianne frowned looking at her tea as if some answer was floating there. “He is just so sure that I’m going to hurt him--not maliciously, he just can’t see himself being loved.” 

Dawn looked annoyed. “You didn’t just tell him that you loved him?” 

“No,” Marianne said, her voice small. 

Dawn moved so quickly that Marianne wasn’t sure what had happened until she yelped, Dawn having not smacked her so much as punched her hard in the shoulder. 

Everyone in the room turned toward the sisters. 

“Everything all right?” Griselda asked with a frown. 

Marianne rubbed her shoulder smiling. “Oh fine, just...you know...sister stuff.” 

Bog was frowning and the concern in his blue eyes made her heart flip. He asked with a motion of his brows if she really was all right and Marianne gave him a nod. He smiled at her and the urge to throw him down and tear his clothing off with her teeth washed over her until her sister hissed. 

“You’re doing it again.” 

Marianne scowled at her sister. “You know it isn’t that easy to just tell someone you love them, especially after my last relationship...and Bog is so…” She gazed at him again. “He’s fragile…” 

Dawn hissed. “Don’t make me hit you again and if I have to, I’ll go after Bog too. My punches are not sibling exclusive!” 

Marianne gave her sister a sour look. “Okay, how should I tell him? Make him a mix tape?” 

Dawn stuck her tongue out at Marianne. “Oh haha, you’re so funny.” But her expression became serious. She pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth in thought. “Get him a gift while we’re out today. You can say it's for the wedding, but you know, give it to him tonight.” 

Marianne sighed. “Like what?” 

Dawn shrugged. “Hey big sis, I don’t have all the answers. Maybe you’ll see it and just know.” 

“I hope so,” Marianne said in a quiet tone, her gaze once again lifting to take in Bog where he stood, leaning against the wall, his cup of tea in his hand, taking the occasional drink as his father discussed taking Paden on Bog’s stag tomorrow. The elderly man was being discharged tomorrow morning they had learned and everyone wanted celebrate the oldest King being released. 

* 

Bog’s eyes wandered over to Marianne. She had turned back to her sister and was speaking with her; the two young women had their heads together, discussing something in private. He smiled, watching the way Marianne smiled, the way her nose wrinkled. She was adorable, wearing skinny jeans and a light, see through lavender sweater with a darker spaghetti strap top underneath along with purple sneakers. She made him want to pick her up in his arms and hold her close, his mouth pressed against hers...He sighed turning away and focused back on the conversation about his stag party which he had yet to be part of. He wanted to tell Marianne that he loved her--really loved her. He wanted to talk to someone about what he and Marianne...no, what he had done, the lie...someone who could help him muster up the courage to figure out what he was doing...but he didn’t know who. He glanced up to see Sunny coming in from the kitchen with a banger on a fork. 

He had noticed that Sunny was one of the first ones here this morning...again. He frowned as it suddenly occurred to him...Dawn! Bog wanted to smack himself in the head. Why hadn't he seen it before? He smirked, but the expression turned into a grin. Maybe he could talk to his cousin! 

Griselda clapped her hands, made everyone in the room jump and turned toward her. “All right ya lot listen up: gents are going after kilts, arranging for decorations, food and drink.” 

She glanced at the men in the room to make sure they were paying attention. “And no pub.” 

Brodie smiled. “I wouldn’t think of it!” 

Griselda narrowed her eyes, clearly not trusting her husband a bit and continued. “Ladies, we are dress shopping, cake shopping, and flowers. So…” She clapped her hands together again. “We have a lot to do and only a wee bit of time to do it in, so I suggest we all get going. We have a King wedding to pull off!” 

The room started to stir as everyone began to stand up and move. Bog hurried over to Marianne taking her hand as she stood up. She nearly dropped her tea cup when Bog grabbed her hands, but Dawn grabbed it, giving her sister a smirk, her eyes darting to Bog. 

“I’ll put it in the sink--you two go on.” Dawn smiled and walked toward the kitchen just as Sunny came up beside her, his hand laid against her lower back. Dawn unconsciously leaned into Sunny. Marianne smiled with a look at the two younger people. It was so nice to see Dawn had found someone finally, after all her little sister’s dating, it looked like someone had finally, truly, caught her attention. 

Marianne didn't have time to contemplate her sister and Sunny long before Bog gently tugged Marianne out of the way of everyone else, guiding her over toward a wall. He turned his back to his family, using his body to shelter Marianne. 

He held her hands lightly in his while his thumbs brushed back and forth over her knuckles. “You going to be all right today?” he asked with concern. “This is way more complicated than we first imagined--than what you agreed to.” 

Marianne smiled giving his hands a squeeze. “Yes I will be fine--don’t worry. You?” 

Bog chuckled. “Yeah, just trying to be the voice of reason is going to be the hardest part.” 

Marianne giggled. “The pub?” 

“The pub. Just glad great grandda won’t be with us, we might get the kilts then end up in the pub for the rest of the day.” His smile was a cross between sheepish and happy. Marianne adored how much Bog loved his family. 

He continued to rub his thumb over her knuckles looking down at their joined hands. Marianne remained quiet; she could sense he wanted to say something. 

“I--I just want you to have a good time today,” he said, his voice soft, intimate between the two of them. 

Marianne leaned closer to him. “You too. I’m looking forward to seeing you in a kilt Bog.” 

He blushed with a small shake of his head, smiling as he looked up at her. “You’re going to be disappointed. I have knobby knees.” 

Marianne laughed, but neither of them stepped away from the other, their hands still clasped together. 

Bog glanced at the ring on her finger and the urge to just blurt out that he loved her was on his lips. He unconsciously pulled her closer. 

Marianne’s heart beat hard and fast as she looked up into his eyes and the sounds around them faded as they stared into each others eyes. 

“Marianne...I…” Bog began. 

Marianne whispered. “Bog…” 

Brodie yelled. “All right you two love birds, that's enough, ya got the rest of your lives to be all…” He stopped and turned yelling at Griselda. “Girl! What was that word little Molly used? It was from that Disney movie she was watching with the deer and all those other talking animals in it …” 

Griselda was looking through her purse when she answered without looking up. “Twitterpated.” 

Brodie grinned and snapped his fingers before pointing at Bog and Marianne. “Twitterpated. Now kiss yer girl goodbye and let's go son.” 

Bog flushed and gave Marianne a little smile. “Have fun.” 

“You too Bog,” Marianne replied before she rose up on her toes and kissed him. 

Bog kissed her back, and for a moment he forgot all of this was a farce; he found himself wishing he was really marrying her before he stepped back and released her hands. 

The both stared at each other as Marianne walked toward Griselda and he walked toward his father. 

They all heard the sound of a vehicle honking outside. Griselda grinned. “There’s Lizzie with the van! Perfect timing! Everyone going dress shopping, out!” 

Marianne waved at Bog, who waved back as she exited the house with the King women to buy her wedding dress. 

* 

The drive to the shop was pleasant, the women in the van chatty, regaling Marianne and Dawn with stories of their weddings (only four of the women with them, including Dawn and Marianne, were unmarried), which included stories of how emotional King men were at their weddings. 

Griselda laughed. “Ah wish you could have seen Bog’s father on our wedding day,” Griselda mused, her eyes taking on a distant look. “He looked so damn handsome in his kilt. His hair was longer then too, had it pulled back at the nape of his neck, tied in a blue ribbon that matched his eyes.” Griselda sighed. “Made me want to jump his bones the moment I saw him standing at the end of the aisle, looking all tall, athletic, and sexy.” 

The other women in the van laughed, but Griselda ignored them as she continued. “Thank goodness he didn’t have a mullet or a mohawk, though he kept threatening to have one or the other on our wedding day. I said if he showed up like that then he could marry his best man.” Everyone laughed with her before she continued. “Anyway, Brodie was standing there waiting for me at the end of the aisle, and those fantastic blue eyes of his were shining. The moment I appeared on my Da’s arm, that man started to cry.” Griselda laughed, but there was the hint of tears in her eyes. 

“And that made me cry. I was so angry at him for making me all snotty on my wedding day.” Everyone laughed again, but from Griselda’s smile, it was clear she had been far from angry. 

“We couldn’t take our eyes off each other. If my Da hadn’t had my arm I would have tripped over my dress.” Griselda giggled, a mischievous glint in her eyes that hinted at a much younger woman inside. “During the reception we snuck off and…” Griselda winked. “Couldn’t wait for the wedding night...that man in his kilt…had to see what he was wearing underneath...” Everyone laughed and screamed at Griselda’s commentary. Marianne blushed bright red while Dawn covered her mouth to contain her giggles. 

Alice grinned, shaking her head. “There is nothing like seeing a King man in a kilt. My Alfie was the same. His hair brushed his shoulders at the time, black as night. I remember his mother trying to get him to cut it before the wedding, but he wouldn’t do it because that was the first thing I had noticed about him was his hair, then those blasted King eyes.” She smiled at Marianne. 

“You know what I mean about the eyes, don’t you dear?” 

Marianne blushed, but Alice continued. “He cried too when he saw me walking down the aisle.” Her smile was soft at the memory. “My father offered to run me home when he saw Alfie crying. I remember smacking my father’s arm.” She chuckled. “He laughed at me, but told me I had picked a good man.” She let out a happy sigh before she continued “I know Bog is going to cry when he sees you in your wedding dress Marianne dear. That boy loves you dearly, anyone can see it. The way he looks at you when you aren’t looking, it's so sweet.” She smiled and leaned close. “Besides, King men wear their emotions on their sleeves you know,” Alice added with a soft smile. “Everyone of them has a big heart, full of love, even old Paden.” 

The ladies all laughed and nodded their agreement. 

Marianne blushed again, but the sweet stories about the men in the King family quickly turned into bawdy tales as--especially the older women in the van, Marianne and Dawn noted--began to talk about their wedding nights; King men were apparently quite passionate as well as emotional. Marianne and Dawn were blushing furiously during these stories, which led to more laughter. After a bit, as the women talked more, laughing until they were in tears, Marianne and Dawn lost the train of the conversations, (because after a while they were only catching a word here or there as the women’s accents became more and more difficult to understand.) It was easy to enjoy the camaraderie of the King women, and made Marianne love Bog’s family a little more. The wedding dress shop that Griselda took them to was called Morga’s Bridal. It was located in what looked to have once been an old, if small, Victorian house that had become penned in on all sides by the modern world, yet the house maintained its elegance beside the buildings that surrounded it, keeping a balance between the old world and the new. It had a small front yard of healthy green grass, surrounded with a black iron fence, pleasant enough to look inviting. Several tidy rows of purple flowers framed the house’s front porch. A sign was attached to the fence with the shop’s name, and another sign over the door that was penned in elegant purple script. The windows in the front were big show windows, having been installed since the place became a bridal store. Prominent in the large window was an elegant white dress on display surrounded by lavender flowers. 

Griselda parked at a small lot across the street. She turned the van off and pushed the door open to hope out. “I’ve known Morga for ages. If anyone can get us a wedding dress on the short it’ll be her!” 

Hattie hurried to keep up with Griselda (as did everyone else since the woman was walking as if her feet were on fire). “What about bridesmaids’ dresses?” 

Griselda’s forehead wrinkled in thought as they hurried across the street. Marianne jogged to keep up; Griselda glanced over at Marianne. “Do you want bridesmaids dear? I know you don’t really know all of us very well...” 

Marianne smiled. “I wouldn’t mind having you all as bridesmaids.” 

The women all made noises of appreciation as they arrived at the sidewalk in front of the shop, but Grielda was the voice of reason. “All of us would be a bit much...Maybe just the unmarried girls? That sound fair ladies?” 

A murmur of agreement rolled through their small crowd. Griselda nodded and hurried up the steps to the shop, pulled the door open--which made a soft jingle and followed the small horde of women piling into the shop. 

Marianne was the first to enter. She stopped short and looked around, her eyes wide. She thought the place was lovely, completely modern on the inside, which surprised her. The floors were dark hardwood, and polished to a clean shine, with patches of white, shag carpeting on which sat clear glass tables sat with thick, white cushioned chairs surrounding the tables. The walls were painted a cool beige with soft lighting to highlight the rows and rows of white dresses, some on display mannequins while others were in long rows creating a sea of lace and satin. The shop made Marianne think of the inside of a cloud castle or maybe the dreams of fairies. Everything was so soft, white, and calm, but accented with glitter. 

As soon their their little mob entered, a young woman with her hair pulled back in a severe bun, dressed all in black, hurried over to them, a smile plastered on her face. “Can I help you? Do you have an appointment?” She looked harried already at seeing so many women swarming the shop at once. 

Griselda walked over with the authority of a military commander. She only came up to the young woman’s chest, but she held herself with enough authority that the young woman looked intimidated. 

“Where’s Morga?” Griselda demanded. 

The young women looked flustered. “Morga isn’t working on the floor today, she…” 

“Go and get her. Tell her Griselda is here.” Griselda motioned at the girl to move. 

The young women looked ready to protest, but Griselda narrowed her eyes and the young woman turned, hurrying off. 

Griselda smiled in satisfaction before she turned her attention toward Marianne. “Now, do you have any idea what you want?” 

Marianne realized at that moment, she had no idea. She had never been one of those women who had thought about her wedding, planned it, dreamed about it from the time she was young, kept scrapbooks about it. And after Roland she hadn’t entertained the idea of a wedding in her future at all...until now. 

Marianne glanced at Dawn, who, like all the other women, were waiting to see what she would say. 

Marianne knew what she was about to say was going to plunge her into a world of hurting, but she couldn’t lie about this, so taking a deep breath to steady herself, she shrugged. 

“I really have no idea,” she replied. The statement she knew was going to set off a frenzy with her at the center. 

Griselda grinned, rubbing her hands together like an evil genius. “Well then, ladies, let's start looking at dresses!” 

Marianne cringed as she thought to herself. What have I done? 

* 

Across town, Bog--along with his father, grandfather, uncles, Sunny, Theo and Iain--walked into a small shop located on a street corner next to an antique shop. The place, called The Black and Tan, was the same place that nearly every King had come to get his kilt for his wedding. The old man who ran the establishment had been there as long as anyone could remember, Mr. Craig Mullan. 

The old man, his back bent, but his eyes bright in his bald head, who had been sitting behind an old walnut desk, hurried over in a shuffle when he saw the Kings enter. “Oh now, look at all of ye! Now what is the occasion for all these Kings in me shop today?” 

Mr. Mullan stopped in front of Brodie. “How’s old Paden doing Brodie? I heard he had a heart attack?” 

Brodie nodded. “Aye, he did, but he’s doing well enough that he’ll be coming home tomorrow.” 

Mr. Mullan nodded. “Good, good. Paden is a tough old cunt.” 

That was the moment that the old man noticed Bog. Mr. Mullan beamed. “Is that little Bog King I see?” 

Bog put his hand out. “Nice to see you again Mr. Mullan.” 

Mr. Mullan shuffled over and gave Bog’s hand a vigorous shake. “Look at you!! I swear yer taller than the last time I laid eyes on you. Youea the tallest of the King men aren’t you boy? Been awhile since ye been home hasn’t it?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, a bit.” 

Mr. Mullan peered up at Bog. “I heard ye were engaged to a pretty American girl too. That true?” 

Bog blushed. The speed with which news moved around this town never ceased to amaze him. “Well, actually that’s what we’re here for…” 

Mr. Mullan beamed. “Here to get measured fer yer kilt, eh? So when’s the wedding?” 

Bog flushed “Well, ah...in a couple of days actually. We’re doing it on Grandda Paden’s birthday.” 

Mr. Mullan blinked, then nodded his understanding. “I see. Well, lucky for you boys I keep your family tartan on hand. I’m assuming y'all need new ones or do you old fellows still fit in yours?” 

Brodie, Alfie, Brutus and Beck all exchanged sheepish looks with Brodie mumbling. “Well one or two of us might need them let out a bit…” 

Mr. Mullan laughed, taking Bog by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him over toward a full length mirror. “No worries, gents--I can work miracles. Now Bog, let’s get you in a kilt boy.” 

* 

Marianne was overwhelmed within a matter of minutes. There were so many dresses! Griselda was holding up a pure white dress with a deep V cut neckline when an older woman approached them with a frown on her face. The woman, like the younger lady they had seen only moments before when their group came barreling in, was dressed all in black; a long black skirt and a fitted black blazer that gave the illusion that the woman wore nothing underneath the jacket. The woman was taller than Griselda by a good head and shoulders and her short, trendy, asymmetrical bob was dyed a pale blue. She hurried over and stopped as her mouth dropped open. 

“Griselda King! Is that you?” 

Griselda grinned. “Morga Slocombe!! Look at you!” 

The two women squealed like school girls and raced into each others arms to hug. Morga pushed Griselda back at arms length. “Well Katie told me some rude woman had come barreling in here without an appointment demanding to see me--I should have known it was you.” 

Griselda laughed. “Sorry Morga dear, but I have a bridal emergency.” 

Morga frowned. “You do? But…” 

Griselda grabbed Marianne by her arm and pulled the younger woman over. “I suppose you heard about Bog?” 

Morga smiled. “I did! I did! Pretty American girl I heard. I bet you were over the moon Griselda! We were all despairing if that boy would find a girl.” 

Griselda nodded. “Aye aye, well, this is the one! Marianne, this is Morga Slocombe, we were in school together. She moved here not long after I married Bog’s father.” 

Morga gasped and grabbed Marianne’s shoulders. “You’re the girl that snagged Bog King?!” 

Marianne nodded. “Ah, yes.” 

“Oh, yer so pretty!!! Griselda she is just gorgeous!” Morga exclaimed turning Marianne around. Marianne bit her lips feeling like a large Barbie doll. 

“Oh, such a cute little figure and look at the elfen little face, big gorgeous eyes! Oh, that boy’s taste has definitely improved after that horrible woman...did you hear she’s living in Edinburgh now with not one, but two illegitimate babies.” Morga whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “I always knew that girl was a hoor.” Morga shook her head. “Mind you, I have nothing against sex outside of marriage, but that girl...a quean.” She shook her head. “Well, enough about that. So, you are marrying Bog King--lucky girl. When’s the wedding?” Morga asked, her brows raised. 

Griselda grimaced as she said. “This is where we need a miracle Morga and why I came to you. It’s this weekend and we need a wedding dress, two brides maid dresses and a maid of honor dress.” 

Morga stopped moving and stared at Griselda. “Yer serious? This weekend?” 

Griselda nodded. “Ye heard about Paden?” 

“I did...Ooh, I see. Well…” Morga winked. “I’ve been known to pull a miracle or two out of me stockings. Lets see what we can do!” 

Morga pulled Marianne with her and stopped in front of a full length mirror. She smiled at Marianne over her shoulder in the mirror. “Now, tell me first how Bog makes you feel my dear.” 

Marianne blinked in surprise at the question. “Ah...he...he makes me feel…” Marianne blinked as she looked a herself in the mirror her voice soft as she spoke. “He makes me feel beautiful, like there is no one else in the world...only me...he makes me feel special. Dizzy...confused...frustrated...but he makes me feel like I’m good enough...that I’m enough...” Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “His smile makes me shiver, the way the sunlight cascades through his hair makes me feel warm...And his eyes, the way he looks at me makes me feel soft, like my heart is yearning, melting. When he looks at me, it hurts, but in a way that I want to keep feeling...when he kisses me I feel like I’m falling and I want to keep falling.” Marianne smiled. “... and when he holds me, I feel safe, warm. I know he’ll protect me…” Marianne’s lips began to tremble. “He makes me feel loved in a way I’ve never felt before…” Marianne sniffed, blushing as tears pricked her eyes, one sliding down her cheek. “Bog just makes me feel...so…” Marianne swallowed. “I love him.” 

Griselda blinked back her own tears holding her hands to mouth while Dawn smiled at her sister. 

Morga smiled softly. “That is beautiful.” She gave Marianne’s shoulders a squeeze. “I know just the dress.” 

Morga hurried off. Griselda hurried over to Marianne and wrapped her arms around the younger woman in a tight hug. “Oh darling! I’m just so happy you are going to be my daughter!” 

Marianne looked over at her sister, the look in her eyes was a mixture of pleading and confusion. Dawn smiled and mouthed. “Tell him tonight.” 

Marianne nodded and hugged Griselda. “I’m happy too.” 

Griselda took a step back and caught Marianne’s face in her hands. “You and Bog are going to be so wonderful together. I’ve not seen two people so in love since I married Brodie.” 

Marianne flushed red. 

Morga came rushing back with a dress in her hands. She held it up. “Tell me what you think of this?” 

The color of the dress made Marianne think of iridescent starlight. The color was a soft shade of blue, but so light it was barely there. The dress had an illusion neckline with long illusion sleeves and a long, sheer petal skirt. A long row of buttons ran down the back, while the dress was dotted with tiny specks of diamonds like stars across a twilight colored sky. It was more beautiful than anything Marianne had ever imagined. 

The other women all gasped, ooh-ed and ahh-ed when they saw the dress. Morga looked smug. 

“Would you like to try it on?” 

Marianne nodded unable to say anything, but she followed Morga into the dressing room. 

Griselda grabbed Dawn, her eyes already filled with tears. “I promised myself I wouldn't cry, but…” 

Dawn held on to Griselda. “Yeah, me too.” 

When Marianne stepped out a few minutes later in the dress, all the women with her were stunned into silence. The dress fit her as if it had always been meant for her. Marianne walked over to the mirror to see herself and then began to cry. 

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. 

Griselda broke down. “Oh no...Oh Marianne, you look so beautiful! Bog is going to be bawling!” 

Dawn giggled with tears in her eyes. “Marianne…” 

Marianne bit her lip looking at herself in the mirror as tears slowly made their way down her cheeks. 

Morga grinned. “Told ya I could work miracles.” 

* 

Bog stepped out in his kilt. The King colors were a field of dark green with blue criss crossing the field, the blue an almost exact match to the King men’s eyes. It seemed that Mr. Mullan had everything ready and waiting, as if the old man had been counting on the day that Bog married. The kilt fit him perfectly, a full dress sporran with an ovoid body and a metal cantle. Bog had on a pair of black socks and flashes that matched the tartan, a silver kilt pin of a sword with an open book on the hilt, and a Sgian Dubh tucked in his hose on his right leg. Bog was even wearing a pair of black brogues. The only things he did not have were the white shirt, a tartan shoulder plaid and silver brooch, a Prince Charlie Jacket (a short cut jacket with short tails in the back, with embellished scallop cuffs and silver buttons as well as silver buttons in the double breast style from the front, while the back tails would also have scallop flaps and silver buttons), vest and a black bowtie. 

Bog’s family all grunted their approval when Bog stopped in front of the mirror and looked at himself. He frowned, wrinkling his nose. The kilt fell to the middle of his knees, but one could still see his knobby knees. 

Brodie grinned. “Damn boy, ye look good.” 

Alfie nodded. “Aye, ye do.” 

Bog frowned. “Do ye think Marianne will like it?” 

Brutus snorted. “Are ye blind Bog? Ain’t ye seen the way that girl looks at ye? She’ll love it, guaranteed.” 

Bog blushed turning to look at the kilt again. Mr. Mullan smiled walking over, tugging here and there on the fit. “Some of my finest work.” 

Bog looked down at the little man. “How long have ye had this waiting?” 

Mr. Mullan grinned. “Started on the it day yer Mam started telling everyone who’d listen that ye was engaged. I figured it was only a matter a time before one of ye came asking about Bog’s kilt.” 

Bog chuckled with a shake of his head. “Thank you Mr. Mullan.” 

The older man nodded. “I have the rest, if ye want to try it all on.” 

Bog frowned, but his father came over and gave his son’s shoulder a tight squeeze. “Go on, let’s see the entire outfit lad.” 

Bog nodded. “All right.” 

Mr. Mullan led Bog back to the dressing room again and asked as they walked. “So is Sunny going to be yer best man?” 

Bog laughed. “How did you know?” 

Mr. Mullan shrugged. “When ye’v been around as long a I have, ye get an ear for these things.” 

* 

Marianne giggled as she sat sipping a glass of champagne watching as the rest of the women started to pick out dresses for the wedding. Dawn, as her maid of honor, was currently modeling a dress that Morga had picked out for her, a lilac V-neck long A-line tulle dress. Dawn kept picking up the skirt and twisting around. Marianne’s other two bridesmaids were wearing similar cut dresses, but in darker purples. 

“I feel like a princess,” Dawn giggled twirling around. 

Marianne laughed. “Wait until Sunny sees you.” 

Dawn blushed and giggled. 

Griselda, who had just removed her dress, a short sleeve column gown with illusion sleeves and an opulent tapestry of metallic beading in silver, was now sitting beside Marianne sipping her own champagne, wearing her regular clothes again. 

“I knew coming here was a good idea.” Griselda sipped her drink. “After this, cake! I know the baker at this little bakery…” 

Marianne glanced at Griselda. “Do you think we could stop someplace on the way home tonight? I would like to get Bog a present.” 

Griselda smiled. “Aren’t you sweet. What did you have in mind?” 

Marianne paled slightly. “I don’t know...I wanted something that expresses my feelings….” Morga, who was hurrying by with two more dresses in her hands, stopped and turned to look at Marianne and Griselda. “Oh, a groom gift? Might I suggest something we have here…” 

Marianne frowned. “You have gifts for the groom here? At a bridal shop?” 

Morga laughed. “Oh, ye would be surprised how many brides decide to get something fer their men when they are trying on their dresses, but I’ll tell ye a little secret, the best gift to give yer husband to be is a card. A card where you write openly and honestly yer feelings for him. No man can resist being told how you feel about him.” Morga winked. “Trust me.” She started to walk off calling over her shoulder. “Cards are in the back dear!” 

Marianne frowned and pressed her lips together. 

Dawn glanced in the direction that Morga had indicated. “I think I might do that for Sunny.” 

Griselda smiled reaching over to lay her hand on Marianne’s. “I think a card would be a brilliant idea Marianne. Bog is tender hearted, a clear expression of yer feeling is something he’ll cherish.” 

Marianne smiled glancing at Dawn who motioned toward the cards with her head. “Come on.” 

Marianne got up and hurried off with her sister while Griselda watched them go with a smile. 

* 

Bog left the shop with his full wedding kilt, Sunny’s full outfit and instructions for one of their group to head back the day before the wedding for everyone else’s. His father and the others were still talking with Mr. Mullan, discussing measurements and whatnots when Bog stepped out to put the wedding clothes out in the vehicles, and asked Sunny to help him out. 

Bog glanced back at the shop, then laid a hand on Sunny’s shoulder. “I need yer help.” 

Sunny frowned as Bog pulled him along. “What’s up?” 

“I need a way to tell Marianne that I’m in love with her,” Bog said as he walked briskly to the vehicles. 

Sunny looked confused. “Dinnae ye do that when ye asked her to marry ye Bog?” 

Bog stopped looking back at the shop. He was ready to tell Sunny everything, how he had lied, how he had convinced Marianne and her sister to help him keep the lie up, how he had felt pressured by familial obligations--by his mother--but now everything was different and he loved Marianne. And he really did want to marry her, but he was a bloody eejit and didn’t know what to do. He was afraid he was going to fook the entire thing up. The words were on the tip of his tongue when he stopped himself. He looked down at Sunny and realized he would sound like a lunatic. 

Bog sighed, bit his bottom lip in frustration as Sunny looked at him as if he were off his heid. Bog frowned, his mind racing. He wanted to get Marianne a gift, something to express his real feelings, something from the heart. Not like the rings, though, not a business transaction, but a real gift for her because he loved her. 

He took a deep breath and gave a little laugh. “Sorry, ah...Ma heid’s mince. I want to get her a gift, an expression of love…” He looked down at his cousin and Sunny smiled. “There’s a little jewelry shop down the way.” He pointed down the sidewalk. “I’m sure we have enough time with our Das talking up a storm in there with Mr. Mullan, they’re gonna be a while. Come on.” 

The two men made their way to the little jewelry shop called Tappit Hen. 

Bog and Sunny walked in to the sound of a soft chime. The inside of the shop was lit with warm yellow lights, hardwood floors and burnt yellow colored walls. The ceiling had wooden beams from which hung several rustic looking lights. Several glass display cases were filled with all sorts of jewelry, from rings to necklaces, brooches, hair clips and pocket watches. There were two young women working behind the counter, one with dark auburn hair while the other was a perky blonde. 

Both ladies smiled and in unison said. “Madainn mhath!” 

Bog nodded. “Madainn mhath.” 

Sunny did the same with a nod. 

The redhead grinned. “So what cannae we help you with?” 

Bog frowned with a glance around, feeling overwhelmed at the selection. “I...I’m looking for a gift for my fiancee. I want to give her something that tells her how much I…” He swallowed blushing. “How I feel about her.” 

The redhead gasped, looking to the blonde. “Isn’t that the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard Eve!” 

Eve nodded. “Och! It is Nancy!” 

Nancy grinned and stepped round the counter. “Come with me. I know just the thing, ye should get her a heatherstone necklace. She’s American right?” 

Bog blinked. “How…?” 

Nancy laughed. “Well, we’ve all heard about the American girl who snagged a King.” 

Eve laughed from her position behind one of the display cases. “Aye! It’s all over town.” 

Bog chuckled with a deepening blush and rubbed the back of his neck. 

Sunny walked beside him and said in a subdued tone. “Maybe I should do the same with Dawn...I want her to know that...well I want to be more than friends...but more than just…” Sunny struggled to find a word to express what he wanted. He wanted a chance to explore his feelings about her with her, he wanted...fook, he thought, he was more than halfway in love with her... 

Eve gasped. “Sunny King! Are ye getting engaged??” 

Sunny stopped in his tracks, turning fully around to stare at Eve. “What? No!” He put his hands up ,his eyes wide. 

Nancy gasped “He is!!” 

Eve squealed. “Oh my God, wait till I tell Auld Miss Gillian!! She said she thought another King would be getting engaged!” 

Nancy nodded. “She did! Remember when she was here doing the cards?” 

“I do!” Eve gasped. 

Sunny put his hands up. “No, no wait!” 

Eve disappeared into the back. 

Nancy giggled. “Well, we have heatherstone engagement rings too…” 

Bog glanced at Sunny who looked stricken. Bog laughed, he couldn’t help himself. Sunny had just stepped into the same rocking boat with him.


	7. When it Rains it Pours

Bog’s smile spread across his face as he and Sunny hurried along the sidewalk, each with a gift in hand. Bog had settled on an intricate celtic knotwork necklace of silver that would lay vertically across Marianne’s delicate throat. The necklace was graceful in the way metal turned and twisted in on itself in a long celtic knot. Bog hoped the necklace would communicate better to Marianne than his words could. He would tell her how he felt, but he was afraid that simply saying ‘I love you,’ or ‘I’m in love with you’ just wouldn’t be enough, that the simple words would fall short of the depth of his feeling for her. He frowned and bit his bottom lip as he ran his fingers along the jewelry box that he had shoved deep inside his pants pocket. He was so bad at this and he worried that his incompetence would not only chase her away, but that he would lose his friendship with her as well. Doubt began to creep in after he had taken only a handful of steps away from the shop. What on earth was he doing, his rebellious mind muttered to him in quiet whispers. 

Sunny had ended up with a ring, though the shorter man looked stunned to have purchased a ring. He had thought to buy Dawn a necklace or a bracelet, something that didn’t carry quite so heavy a meaning, but when he had started to examine the rings, started to think about Dawn wearing his ring, Sunny had crumbled and bought her a ring. He knew in his heart that putting a ring on her finger, with all the weight such an act entailed, was exactly what he wanted, but he had decided to make sure whatever ring he bought was not in any way, shape or form an engagement ring, just a simple ring that said more than friends--at least, that was what he hoped they were becoming. 

He had tried desperately to get the two young women to realize that he wasn't about to get engaged, which they finally agreed was not what he was here for (though he noticed during the whole exchange of him picking out a ring for Dawn that the two women kept snickering at him.) He had finally decided on a ring that the sale ladies had assured him was NOT an engagement ring. It was a silver ring engraved with the words ‘Mo Ghaol Ort,’ which translated to ‘my love upon you.’ The two women had assured him this was a friendship ring, but judging by the giggles he received on the way out, he was beginning to think they had just fooled him. The ring was beautiful and the thought of putting it on Dawn’s finger made Sunny feel all warm inside. Sunny smiled to himself, his hand wrapped around the ring case in his pocket. 

When Bog and Sunny arrived back by the Mr. Mullan’s place, he could see his father and uncles laughing, still speaking to Mr. Mullan in the doorway. When they saw Bog, his father waved. 

“There ya are! Where’d ye run off to boy?” Brodie grinned at his son. 

Bog shrugged. “Just popped off to grab a gift for Marianne.” His face turned red as he said it. 

Brodie smiled and put his arm around his son’s shoulders when Bog was close enough. “That is a brilliant idea. I think I should do the same for your Mam, being the mother of the groom and all. And it never hurts to get yer Mam a gift.” His Da winked at him and Bog groaned. “Da!!” 

Brodie laughed. “We’re old son, not dead! Where’d ya go?” 

Bog pointed. “Down the way there, ya can’t miss it.” Brutus, Theo, and Alfie exchanged a look before following Brodie with Alfie calling out. “Be right back.” 

Beck chuckled. “Look at them, going off to butter up their ladies.” He shook his head. “This is why I’m single.” 

Bog grinned. “I thought ye were single because no one could put up with ya uncle?” 

Beck shrugged. “Aye, I only need me dog, thanks.” 

Iain, who was standing next to Beck, muttered. “I think my boyfriend might like a necklace…” 

The small white haired young man ran off after the others. 

* 

The bakery where Griselda pulled up was called Primrose Cakes and was another tiny shop located in the first floor of a little brick building with a purple awning that was decorated with colorful flowers. When the group of ladies walked into the bakery, Marianne and Down both stopped, their eyes rolling closed as they were overcome with the sweet scent of baking spices and sugar blended perfectly with the scents of tea and coffee. The entirety of the place was decorated with a dark purple floor and white tables and chairs while the white walls were accented in the same shade of purple as the floors with pictures hanging on the walls that showed images of beautiful wedding cakes as well as landscapes of the town. A long glass case was filled with delicious looking pastries and a plump older woman with a bright smile stood behind the counter with a mop of red curling hair and purple cat eye glasses. 

When the woman saw Griselda, she gasped. “Griselda King! As I live and breathe!!! I haven’t seen you going on six weeks, not since Iain’s birthday!” 

Griselda hurried over as the other woman came around the counter, the two of them hugging. “Sorry Maddie dear, been busy.” 

Maddie hugged Griselda before stepping back. “Oh I heard, with Old Paden’s birthday coming. I heard that you hired Archie to bake the cake this year. Good choice, the lad is very good and he could use the business. Always hard getting on your feet when ye first start out. So what are you doing here? Is it about a wedding cake?” Maddie gave Griselda a sly look. 

Griselda grinned. “So ye heard.” 

As Maddie giggled, Marianne thought the sound was delightfully youthful. “Aye, I think everyone knows.” Maddie turned to zero in on Dawn and Marianne. “So which one of these lovely young women is marrying Bog and which one is marrying Sunny?” 

Dawn made a surprised squeak. Even Griselda, along with all the other women, looked surprised. 

Griselda grabbed Maddie’s arm tugging her close. “Sunny? What did you hear?” 

Maddie giggled again. “Well, I heard it from Samuel, who heard it from Mary at the butcher who heard it from Eve, that Sunny and Bog were in the jeweler down on Victoria Road and that 

Sunny bought a ring.” Maddie looked confused, then gasped looking at Dawn and Marianne her hands going to her mouth. “Oh no, I’ve done ruined yer surprise!” 

Dawn looked at Marianne. “Sunny bought a ring?” 

Marianne smiled. “Maybe it's just a gift, or a rumor, or just maybe...” 

Dawn blushed bright red, but she was smiling even as she looked surprised. 

Griselda grinned with a pointed glance over at Sunny’s mother Hattie. Hattie looked pleased as punch. 

Griselda cleared her throat. “Well, I don’t know anything about Sunny and Dawn.” She smiled over at Dawn who looked several levels of flustered. “But this is Marianne…” Griselda reached over and pulled the young brown-haired woman forward. “She’s my boy Bog’s girl and we are here to pick out a wedding cake, but do you think you could have it in the next two days?” 

Maddie blinked in momentary shock at the request, then smiled. “For you, I can do anything.” Griselda grinned as Maddie turned her attention to Marianne, catching Marianne’s face in her hands. “Oh you are as pretty as everyone has been saying!” 

Marianne blushed and said between her squished cheeks. “Thank you.” 

Maddie grinned and patted Marianne’s cheeks before she let go and stepped back. “So tell me, do you have anything in mind? Flavors? How you want the cake to look?” 

Marianne shook her head. “Nope, no ideas.” 

Maddie grinned before turning to the group. “All right ladies, everyone have a seat. I’m going to start bringing out cake samples.” 

A united cheer erupted from the group. 

* 

A hour later Marianne groaned pushing her plate back as she leaned back in her chair. “I’ve eaten so much cake! And it's all so good!! I swear I gained fifty pounds!” 

Dawn nodded. “Me too, but that was the best cake I’ve ever tasted!” 

Maddie grinned proudly. “Thank you dears.” 

Dawn grinned and leaned back in her seat to look up at Maddie. “I think I love you.” 

Maddie laughed giving Dawn’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I’m so glad you all liked it. So, do you have any favorites?” 

Marianne looked at the several half eaten pieces of cake. Each and every one of them was delicious, but she knew she had to make a decision. “Um, okay...the vanilla sponge with the strawberry with champagne buttercream and strawberry and the strawberry conserve. Do you think we could have some cupcakes in the elderflower and rose buttercream and vanilla?” 

“Of course, not a problem dear!” Maddie laughed. “Now, do you want a traditional three layers or…” She motioned at some model cakes that were on display on the counter. “We can do something a little different, though with the time crunch…” 

Marianne smiled. “A traditional three layers will be fine...I’m not really sure what I would want beyond that.” 

Maddie smiled. “Well if you trust me dear, I think I can make you something you will love.” 

Marianne grinned. “That sounds perfect, thank you.” 

Maddie winked at her. 

* 

By the time all the groups met back at Griselda’s house, everyone was exhausted. The men had finished with the rentals, the flower circle, tables, chairs and anything else they could think of; Brodie had even managed to drag everyone out of the pub at a decent time. (Though Griselda had glared daggers at her husband when Bog had mentioned the pub, which had earned Bog a light playful smack on the back of the head from his father.) The last stop for the ladies had turned into a two hour long affair as the florists were a husband and wife duo, Bernard and Beatrice Carr, who very much enjoyed gossiping, but their accents had been so thick Marianne and Dawn weren’t sure what was being said, nor was Marianne sure what flowers they had actually ordered. She was hoping she had gotten the china blue hyacinths, muscari, cream and peach roses, with freesias bouquet, but she had no way of knowing for sure. All she did know was that the Carr’s were happy Bog was getting married and seemed to like her. The two of them had reminded her of auctioneers, they both had spoken so quickly with such thick accents she had simply spent most of her time nodding her head and hoping for the best. As for the flowers, Marianne supposed she would find out on the day, though Marianne found herself thinking more and more of that day as her wedding day, rather than her fake wedding. She frowned in thought. She really needed to tell Bog her feelings...Marianne thought of the card that she had been working on between shopping stops, bending her mind to find the words to write down that would express her feelings. So far she hadn’t written anything in the card itself as she struggled to form her thoughts, but she was determined that she would by bedtime. Tonight Bog King was going to know exactly how she felt about him. 

When Dawn saw Sunny that night, her heart leapt inside her chest. During the rest of the day she and Marianne hadn’t discussed the possible ring and what it might mean, not that they really had a chance with all the shopping, but Dawn’s mind had been on the ring all day. Thinking about the ring and her feelings had made writing her own card for Sunny difficult. Her feelings were in the small shadow of a spot between friendship and love (both interlaced with large veins of lust), but now, seeing Sunny, Dawn realized that if he did ask her to marry him, she would say yes. She knew it was wild and reckless and fast, but she somehow just knew that saying yes would be the right thing for her. She had already agreed to stay after her sister went home; maybe that decision told her how she felt, that she was willing to take a leap of faith...then maybe she was willing to take an even larger leap? 

Dinner that night was a chaotic, fun affair with everyone chipping in, several runs to the store for supplies and much laughter. Dinner spilled from the dining room into the living room with adult family members and children everywhere. Marianne and Dawn felt both swept away by the chaos and privileged to be part of it. Their family was small without the extended family members and so neither of them were used to this sort of chaos, but they both loved the family dynamic of the King family, the easy love and happiness between all the members, the pure, unconditional acceptance of everyone. 

With all the chaos and family members moving in and out and all around the house, Bog and Marianne couldn’t seem to find a quiet moment together during the entire affair. Bog was desperate to tell Marianne his feelings, the necklace burning a hole in his pocket, but finding a moment alone with her was next to impossible. Now that he had made up his mind, the urge to tell her preyed on his mind and it felt like the fates (and his family) were conspiring against him getting the chance to tell her. 

As the evening wore on, Bog began to slowly lose his courage to tell her, especially when each moment they were alone was soon interrupted by some member of his family until Bog was about ready to started cursing in frustration. 

Unbeknownst to Bog, Marianne was having the same issue. 

She still hadn’t written anything in her card, but she was seriously considering simply winging it. Each time she managed to get Bog alone, pulling him to a corner or to one point she tried to yank him outside, but almost as soon as they had slipped out, someone (in this case it was a couple of the little kids) came out with them, until Marianne gave up in defeat. 

Finally, at around midnight, the last member of the King family that did not live with Griselda and Brodie (Sunny excluded) finally headed home. Marianne and Dawn helped Griselda with cleaning up the kitchen while Bog, Sunny and Brodie picked up the living room. 

When everyone was done, Brodie yawned, his jaw cracking. “Well, I should head up. They’re releasing Grandda in the morning, going to be down there first thing or he’ll be calling demanding to know where I am.” He chuckled and patted Bog on the shoulder. “Ye want to go with me?” 

Bog smiled. “Sure Da.” 

Brodie grinned as he headed toward the stairs. “Good boy, y’are son.” 

Bog glanced at Marianne, his anxiety spiking. Here was his chance to tell her once they were upstairs alone--he could finally hand her the box and pour out his feelings for better or worse. 

“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” Bog said as he stretched of his arms over his head, his back cracking. (Marianne watched his stretch with a fast, hot spike of lust, her eyes trailing down his torso. 

She swallowed hard, and then again when she saw a hint of skin when his shirt rode up.) 

Griselda laid her hand on her son’s arm. “Oh no, Bog. You are going with Sunny over to yer uncle’s for the next few days.” 

Bog and Marianne both looked at Griselda in shock. (No one noticing the equally shocked expressions on Dawn and Sunny’s faces, both of whom had been having the same issue with trying to be alone to talk.) But it was Bog who gasped. “What’re ye fookin talking about Mam?” 

Griselda smiled. “Since yer getting married and the hen do and stag are tomorrow I think you both should spend the next couple of nights apart until the wedding.” 

Brodie who was halfway up the stairs stopped and looked down. “Girl, what are ye on about now?” 

“I think Bog and Marianne should not spend their nights together for the next couple before the wedding.” 

Brodie sighed. “Girl, I…” 

Griselda motioned at her husband. “Oh shush, Brodie. Now Bog, I talked to Brutus and Hattie and they have a cot you can have. They’ve set you up in Sunny’s room.” She smiled. “It’ll be like when ye both were boys.” 

Bog frowned, then threw his arms in the air in frustration. “A cot Mam? Really? Have ye seen the size of me?” Bog gestured at himself, his hands going up and down. (Marianne paid particular attention to his body.) “My legs will be hanging all off the edge! I’ll be lucky if I can even sleep!” 

Marianne spoke up, raising her hand like she was in school. “I don’t…” 

Griselda waved her hands at them, dismissing them both. “Nonsense. Now, I already packed yer bag…” Griselda started to move. “...it’s right here by the door…” 

Bog blinked in shock. “What? When?” 

He glanced over at Sunny who looked just as flabbergasted as Bog. Dawn had a small pout on her lips. 

His mother continued. “You and Sunny can have a nice time catching up and ye can have a fun night on yer stag.” 

Bog sighed. “Mam, I don’t care for a stag…” 

“Oh nonsense. Now, off with you both. Ye can see yer girls in the morning for breakfast. Now shoo.” Griselda motioned at her son and Sunny. She grabbed both men by their arms and turned them around, shoving them toward the door. 

Bog groaned. “Mam I don’t even have any friends for a stag!” 

“Oh pooh Bog! Don’t be such an eejit. Now you and Sunny go get some sleep! Shoo!” Griselda gave both young men another shove toward the door. 

Bog looked helplessly at Marianne over his shoulder. Their eyes met, both of them having so much unsaid between them. Bog’s shoulders slumped in defeat and Marianne felt an unpleasant weight settle in her stomach. 

Marianne hurried over slipping past Griselda. “Can I at least say good night?” 

Griselda laughed. “Oh course.” She stepped away to let Dawn hurry over to Sunny. 

Griselda smiled. “Young love.” She glanced at her husband on the stairs who lifted a brow at her, a look of slight annoyance on his face. She hurried over and gave him a light smack. 

“Don’t you be giving me that look Brodie King,” Griselda said in a quiet, but firm tone. 

Brodie whispered. “Girl, now ye should have asked before ye went and did that.” 

Griselda smiled. “It’ll make them more…” she motioned with her hand. “Amorous.” 

Brodie rolled his eyes. “Girl, ye are wicked.” 

Griselda giggled and elbowed him gently. “Ye like me that way.” 

“Aye, I do.” He laughed. 

* 

Marianne took Bog’s hands holding them tight. “I’ll see you in the morning. I would like to talk to you about something as soon as possible.” 

Bog’s heart plummeted. “You...you do?” 

She nodded. “It’s important.” 

Bog bit his bottom lip and all the blood drained from his face. He knew she was going to tell him when this was over she didn’t want to see him again. That had to be it. Of course that was it. He was such a damn idiot. 

He swallowed and whispered. “If ye don’t want to...I mean...the wedding…” 

Marianne squeezed his hands. “Bog…” She released one of his hands to reach out and catch his chin. She lifted his face so she could look into his blue eyes. She smiled at him and Bog felt everything inside melt. 

“We’re getting married,” she said softly enough so that only he could hear her. She ran her hand along his throat, her movements slow and gentle, tugging the tall man down at the same time that she stepped closer, raising onto her toes and kissed him. 

For a heartbeat Bog didn’t know what to do with his hand that she had released, but the hand still holding hers tightened; her hand was warm, soft, tiny in his hand, but when Marianne stepped closer, his other arm rose on its own accord to wrap around her waist. It felt natural to hold her, her body fit perfect up against his which astounded him. He was so tall and ungainly, but she fit against him as if they had been made for each other. Bog tugged her body against him, while at the same time he brought their joined hands up, resting their intertwined hands against his heart, holding her hand as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He opened his mouth against her soft lips, falling into her kiss, his fingers on her waist tightened, just a fraction. He didn’t want to let her go, he wanted to spend the rest of his life kissing her. Her tongue moved soft against his, sweet and tender and at the same time erotic, sexy. When he felt her fingers slide into his hair Bog made a soft whispering sigh of pleasure. 

Marianne forgot anyone else was around them. Bog’s mouth, his tongue, lips, the feel of his hands, the warmth and scent of his body were all she was aware of. The rest of the room fell away in his kiss. She pressed her body against him tighter, feeling the flat plain of his stomach, the press of his hips, the warmth and toned muscles of his chest. When he brought her hand up to hold against his chest, Marianne’s heart felt as if it was about to explode. This was what love was suppose to be like she thought--exactly like this. 

While Marianne and Bog were saying their good nights, Sunny had taken Dawn’s hand and pulled her outside. 

Sunny held her hand, swinging their joined hands nervously when he came to a stop on the front porch. “Ah...sorry...I ah...I mean, not to assume I was staying the night or anything, but I didn’t know Griselda was going to…” 

Dawn giggled and gave Sunny a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s okay. And I would have asked you to stay again.” She blushed. “Getting used to having your chest to lay my head on already.” 

Sunny grinned and blushed. “Me too...I mean..well, you know what I mean…” 

They both giggled, nervously continuing to swing their hands. 

Sunny swallowed. “Well, ah…” He wanted to give her the ring, but this felt like the wrong time and rushed, not at all how he wanted to do things. The ring wasn’t an engagement ring...or...at least he didn’t think it was, but now, standing here, looking at her, he wasn’t sure anymore what he was doing. All Sunny did know what that he didn’t want to lose Dawn, the thought of not waking up with her curled next to him was already a thought that sickened him. He loved her, wanted to see what they could have together more than he had wanted anything, except his music. 

Dawn gave him a shy smile. Her card bent in her pocket, her heart poured out into words on paper, but she didn’t reach for it. Instead, she stared at Sunny. He was everything she wanted and she wanted to hold onto him with both hands and never let go. 

Sunny felt heat rising in his cheeks as he looked down at their joined hands. “I’ll ah...see you in the morning.” 

Dawn nodded, though neither of them moved; their hands stayed joined until Sunny whispered. “Can I kiss you?” 

Dawn giggled. “Of course you can silly.” 

Sunny chuckled, reaching out for her other hand to pull her closer. He gazed at her in a way that made Dawn feel like an electric current was moving through her body. 

Dawn looked back at him, her light blue eyes catching the light of the front porch making Sunny think of fairy lights. They both stepped closer, their eyes never leaving the others. Sunny released her hands, reached up to caress her face. He dragged the tips of his fingers along her jaw in a feather touch before unfolding his fingers to gently lay them against her throat as he guided her down to his waiting lips. 

Dawn grasped his waist. Her hands balled up the material of his shirt as her lips touched his, her eyes closed as her lips slowly parted against his, their tongues touching. That gentle touch was like a fire being lit; Dawn’s mouth and tongue moved with his in a slow, deep kiss that made her wish it could go on forever. She felt his kiss deep in her bones, a rush of electricity through her body setting her ablaze, but when Sunny made a quiet moan, Dawn’s hands tightened more. 

* 

Griselda sighed leaning into her husband, watching Marianne and Bog. She could just see Dawn and Sunny on the porch through the open door. “Remember when we kissed like that?” 

Brodie chuckled and nuzzled her ear. “You mean this morning?” 

She giggled and wiggled against him, his hot breath and lips tickling her neck and ear. “You are such an arse Brodie King.” 

His voice was low and lustful as he whispered back to his wife. “Aye, but ye like me that way.” 

She giggled like she did when she was twenty. “Aye, I do.” 

* 

A few minutes later Marianne sighed, standing on the front porch with her sister watching as Bog and Sunny walked down the drive. Bog turned and waved at her, as did Sunny. Both young women waved back. 

Marianne whispered, “Well, this sucks.” 

Dawn nodded. “Yeah. I was going to give Sunny the card I wrote for him.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah...me too...or at least I was going to tell Bog how I feel, but telling him right now didn’t seem right.” 

Dawn sighed. “Yeah.” After a few seconds Dawn whispered. “What the hell is a hen do?” 

Marianne chuckled. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” 

* 

Marianne laid in bed, unable to sleep. It had started raining after she had showered and crawled into bed, a soft spring rain. She had laid on her back listening to the sound of the rain against the window and thought about Bog, about the way his skin smelled, the feel of his skin, the sound of his heart beating when she pressed up against him, his arms around her. 

She groaned aloud and rolled over to smash her face into Bog’s pillow. She could smell him on the sheets, the pillow...she groaned again. God damn it, she mouthed. Sleep was elusive. She sat up and turned the light on. The card she had been trying to write lay on the bedside table, a pen on the top of it. She reached over and picked both up, laying the card on her bent knees when she brought her legs up, holding the pen over the thick paper ready to write, but the words just weren’t coming. Marianne chewed at her bottom lip in frustration. 

She had asked Griselda how far away Brutus and Hattie’s place was from them, Grisielda had said their place was only a couple of miles, just a good stretch of the legs. Marianne pressed her lips together before she picked up her cellphone to look at the time. It was not quite one in the morning. Bog was probably asleep, but maybe… 

Marianne didn’t think about it further. She got up and started to dress, throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweater, grabbing her tennis shoes and slipped out the door onto the dark stairwell. She held her shoes and with quiet care, her bare feet making barely a sound, she slipped downstairs. 

* 

Unbeknownst to Marianne, Dawn was on her phone in her room. 

She whispered to Sunny. “I’m glad you were still awake.” 

Sunny whispered back. He wasn’t sure why he was whispering, but he did. “Couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about you.” 

Dawn chewed her fingernail before she asked, blurting out the question. “Ah...can I come over?” 

Sunny on the other end of the line smiled. “Yes. Bog just left, I’ll come get you.” 

Dawn blinked. “What? Bog left?” 

“He couldn’t sleep either, said he needed to talk to Marianne,” Sunny explained. “He said he needed to tell her something that couldn’t wait.” 

Dawn smirked. “Did he? Hmm…” 

Sunny’s voice sounded confused. “Is something wrong?” 

“No. So, you said you could pick me up?” Dawn asked. 

Sunny nodded on the other end of the line. “Aye, I’ll just grab the keys to my Da’s motorcycle. It’ll be wet, but he’s got an extra helmet. I can come around the back way so as not to wake my aunt and uncle. Ye’ll just have to cross the back garden.” 

Dawn giggled. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you outside.” 

Sunny smiled. He almost didn’t say it, but like Bog he didn’t want to wait on something this important, though almost as soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth he wished he had waited to tell her in person. “Dawn...I...I love...I love you.” 

Dawn’s eyes widened in surprise and she almost dropped the phone. His words only confirmed for her what she felt for him. She said in a soft, breathy voice. “I love you too. Hurry.” 

“I will,” Sunny said with a grin before hanging up the phone. 

Dawn grinned, her top teeth pressed into her lip. She fell back on the bed and kicked her feet in glee, her squeals muffled as she giggled. “He loves me!!” 

* 

Bog pulled his jacket collar up higher, hunching down as he buried his hands in the front pocket of his jeans and continued walking. The streetlights’ glow was dim in the raining night. The rain that had started light was now coming down heavier. His hair was plastered against his head and sticking to his face. The chilly water ran down his back, soaking him, sticking his shirt to him, and his pants clung to his legs while his socks felt like soggy sponges in his shoes. He sighed, looking down at the asphalt as he continued to walk. He hadn’t been able to sleep, lying on his back on the too-short cot. (He had been correct, his damn legs had hung over the end.) But that hadn't been what had kept him up, it was Marianne. The need to tell her the truth was eating at him. He had to tell her, had to let her know. It was a need now--for better or worse he had to tell Marianne. 

He had lay on the bed looking at the necklace, thinking about the kiss they had shared, the way she smiled, her hand in his, the light in her brown eyes, her laugh, how she embraced his family, embraced everything. He loved Marianne so much. 

Bog had sat up and sighed. “Sunny, I’m going back to see Marianne.” 

Sunny, who had been lying awake and staring at the ring he had bought Dawn, sat up. “Really? It’s raining!” 

Bog had gotten up and started to dress. “I don’t care.” 

Sunny had watched Bog leave with a smile when his phone rang. 

* 

Bog sighed as a shudder ran through him. His mind swirled with thoughts as he tried to figure out exactly what he was going to say or how he was going to say it when he thought he heard footsteps. It was hard to tell with the sound of the rain, but he looked up and stopped in surprise. He was about halfway to his parents house, but there was Marianne, soaked to the skin and standing in the middle of the road. 

“Bog?” She spoke his name just loud enough he heard her over the sound of the rain. 

“Marianne? What are you doing out here?” Bog hurried over to her slipping off his already soaked jacket, but he wrapped it around her anyway. He pulled her close, could feel her shivering in the chill of the spring rain. “Yer soaked,” he murmured, then winced. Captain Obvious. 

Marianne smiled, her eyes bright as she laid her cheek against his chest. His shirt was soaked, and she could see his chest through the wet, white t-shirt. “I needed to see you. What are you doing out here?” she asked. 

Bog blushed smiling, his arms around her. He kissed the top of her wet hair. “I, ah...I needed to see you...I need to tell you something,” he whispered. 

Marianne shifted enough to look up at him. “Bog?” 

Bog stared down at her as rain drops ran down his face. His eyes were so blue she thought, the most beautiful shade of blue she had ever seen. 

Bog pressed his lips together for a moment, drawing on every ounce of courage he had as he whispered. “I needed to tell you that...that...I love you. I truly, deeply love you.” 

Marianne blinked back the drops of rain on her lashes. “Bog…” 

Bog rushed ahead. “You don’t have to love me. I don’t expect you to Marianne, but I needed to tell you. I didn’t want to lie to you...I’ve told enough lies and I need you to know…” 

“Bog,” she interrupted him. “I love you too.” Marianne reached up and laid her hand against his cheek. “I love you.” 

Bog stared at her. “You do?” He looked confused, which made Marianne love him a little bit more. “Yes Bog. I do. I love you.” 

The smile that spread across his face as her words sank in made Marianne warm all over. The smile showed his crooked teeth and lit up his blue eyes even more, creating little wrinkle around his eyes that made her burn for him. 

“Are you sure?” he asked and Marianne laughed. 

“Oh Bog, yes, with all my heart yes!” 

Bog grabbed her up and lifted her off her feet at the same time Marianne wrapped her arms around his shoulders, their lips coming together. Marianne wrapped her legs around his waist while their kisses moved past tender to burning passion. Marianne pushed his wet hair back from his face while she kissed him, kissing him as if she couldn’t get enough of him. Her tongue caressed his tongue in a swirl before she caught his bottom lip with her teeth, a sweet, sensual tug before she attacked his mouth again. Her hands in his wet hair balled into fists as she kissed him hard. Bog’s hands moved from her waist down to her rear where he cupped her backside, lifting her up to easily hold her while he kissed her. 

They stood in the middle of the street kissing while it rained down on them, neither of them caring. Nothing beyond the kiss meant anything to either one of them. 

Marianne pulled back from his lips to lay her forehead against his, both of them breathing heavily. She whispered to him over the sound of the rain. “Take me home Bog.” 

He smiled at her, his eyes like looking into the gates of heaven. “Aye, I will.” 

Bog hefted her up, but he didn’t put her back on her feet as he began to walk back to his parents’ house carrying her. Marianne wrapped her arms snugly around his neck, burying her face against his neck and closed her eyes, letting the rain wash down on her. 

* 

Sunny, dressed in an old leather jacket, sweater and jeans, arrived at the back gate of his aunt and uncle's house, the helmet for Dawn on the handle of the bike. He turned the motorcycle off, pulled his helmet off in the next moment despite the rain, just in time to see Dawn--a dark shadow--racing across the back garden. He hadn’t seen Bog since he had taken the back way here on the bike, and in truth he hadn’t been thinking about his cousin, his mind completely on Dawn. 

She hurried over, opened the gate and stepped through, doing her best to close the gate quietly before rushing over and throwing herself at Sunny who was still straddling the bike. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. 

The light in the back was weak, but he could still see her beautiful face when she pulled back from the hug. (He also noticed she was still in her pajamas just with a jacket thrown over the top.) 

Her light blue eyes and golden blonde hair--now plastered to her face by the rain--made his heart skip. 

He grinned with an awkward tilt of his head. “Hey.” 

Dawn giggled reaching out to caress his face. “Hey.” 

They both stood there getting wet when Sunny murmured. “I mean what I said.” 

Dawn smiled, tracing his damp lips with her finger. “I meant what I said.” 

Sunny blushed and pulled a small box from his jacket. Dawn’s eyes widened. She knew he had purchased her a ring from the gossip around town, but seeing the box now, her heart skipped a beat. 

Sunny looked down at the box while the rain continued to soak them both to the skin. 

“I wanted to give ye something that expressed my feelings, to tell ye that yeah, I know it's only been a couple of days but--but damn it, I love you.” He chuckled. “But without the ‘damn it.’ Sorry…” He sighed. “I just...Dawn...I…” He looked into her eyes, the rain running down her face, ther blue eyes bright and beautiful. “Dawn, I love you. I don’t want ye to go home to the States, I want ye to stay with me...I want…” He swallowed. “Shite, I’m really bad at this, but I want ye to think about us having more…” He handed her the box. 

Dawn took the box and opened it, saw the ring inside with the words that ringed it surrounded by delicate knotwork. 

“What’s it mean?” She looked up at him. 

Sunny blushed. “Mo Ghaol Ort…” Dawn felt a shiver down her spine at the way Sunny said the words. “It means, ‘My love upon you.’” He said the translation softly, gazing into her eyes. 

Dawn smiled and took the ring out of the box, slipping it onto her left ring finger. Surprisingly, it fit almost perfectly. 

She murmured softly. “My love upon you…” She smiled and said the words directly to Sunny. “My love upon you Sunny…” 

Sunny ducked in and kissed her, at the same time taking her hand with the ring in his hand, a slow, warm kiss as the rain fell on them. Dawn wrapped her free hand around him, her fingers sliding into his wet hair, letting herself fall into the kiss. His lips and tongue made every fiber of her being come alive. 

Sunny was the one to pull back, but only enough to speak, his nose against hers as he whispered. “Spend the night with me?” 

Dawn nodded. “All the nights Sunny.” 

He smiled, pulling the extra helmet off the handlebars and handed it to her before she climbed onto the bike behind him. He started the bike, turning around to head back to his parents’ home. 

* 

Bog carried Marianne the entire way without once losing his breath or struggling. When they arrived at his parents’ home, he quietly opened the door, holding her up with one hand as he slipped inside. 

The house was dark and quiet. He was certain that his parents were asleep, and only then did Bog set her on her feet. He removed his soaked jacket from her shoulders with gentle care and then struggled with his wet shoes. Marianne did the same, kicking off her shoes and pulling off her wet socks. As soon as Bog had pulled his own socks off, Marianne attacked him. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him hard. Bog made a muffled sound of surprise, but he lifted her up again pressing her against the wall by the front door, stepping on his wet jacket as he pressed her up against the wall, kissing her with a passion he had only dreamed was possible. His mouth moved from her mouth to bite his way down to her throat. He licked the rain water at her throat, feeling the rapid beat of her pusle against his tongue. 

Marianne gasped, her voice low and breathy as she grabbed at his wet tshirt pulling it up his back, desperate to touch his skin, to touch him all over, to feel him against her. 

Bog used his hips and his thigh between her legs to hold her up against the wall, at the same time reaching with both hands over his shoulders to pull his wet shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. He was panting, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of her head, staring into her soft, brown eyes. 

Marianne stared at him with a keen hunger. Her eyes snaked down from his face to his chest, pressed her hands against the wet muscles of his chest and down his stomach, watching the way he reacted to her touch, his body twitching when her hands moved down over his stomach, and stopped at the waist of his jeans. He slowly lowered his leg, setting her back on her feet, but kept his hands against the wall as if he were afraid to touch her. 

Marianne stared up at him as she slid her fingers just under the waist of his pants, her fingers pressed against his skin. Bog’s breath was heavy as was hers. They didn’t move for a moment until Marianne started to work at the button of his jeans, popping the top button open, followed by the next button and the next. Her fingers brushed against his erection as she worked at the buttons. She could feel the heat coming through the cotton of his underpants, the warmth of his skin thrugh the cotton contrasting with the cool feel of his stomach. 

Bog watched her without moving until she had pulled open the last button, leaving his jeans undone. When she had finished, he reached out and began to pull her shirt up, giving her a chance to stop him, but Marianne instead helped him, pulling her wet shirt off and dropping it to the floor with his shirt, their socks and shoes, all of which was forming a growing puddle of water. 

Bog stared at her for a long moment. Her bra was soaked through, showing a hint of her pink, hard nipples beneath the fabric. Her skin was goosebumped, her hair sticking to her face, and she shivered. He ducked his head down and captured her mouth again before he once more lifted her up. Marianne wrapped herself around him, her head once more nestled against his throat as Bog quietly made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. 

He slipped inside with her, once more setting her on her feet before he reached behind him and closed the door with a gentle click. 

Marianne pressed Bog against the door, her mouth hungry on his while she grabbed the sides of his pants and yanked down, releasing his mouth only long enough to drag his wet jeans down his long legs (which didn’t go as gracefully as she had hoped, wet jeans usually didn’t) until Bog was standing against the door with his jeans caught around his ankles and in his dark grey briefs. Bog stepped out of the pile that was his wet jeans at the same time reaching for the waist of her pants, he tugged her toward him, leaned in for another kiss. Marianne grasped his shoulders while Bog’s long, nimble fingers worked the button of her jeans free before pulling the zipper down. When he grasped the sides of her jeans and tugged (having a difficult time too with her wet jeans), 

Marianne moaned softly. 

When she was free of her jeans, Bog’s hands glided over her skin. Starting at her thighs he caressed her cool skin with just the tips of his fingers, brushing over the sides of her wet panties and up to her bra. He traced the line of where her bra pressed against her skin until he felt the clasp at the back. He moved slowly, giving her the chance to tell him no as he gradually worked the clasp of her bra free. 

Marianne made a low moan when her bra came free before she quickly reached up and tugged her bra off her shoulders and down her arms, dropped it to the floor where it landed with a soft, wet sound. Bog’s breath quickened, seeing her naked but for the delicate pale pink panties she wore. His fingertips caressed her collar, then along her shoulders before gliding down her arms. Bog’s gaze was hot, brushing over her now naked chest as his heart rate rose and his blood rushed hot through his veins. 

He swallowed, his fingers sliding back up her arms to her shoulders, then caressing along her collarbone and down to just above her breasts, marveling at how soft and silky her skin was under his touch. “Marianne...you are so beautiful.” He took a deep, heavy breath. He felt dizzy, but it was a welcome feeling. 

Marianne blushed reaching out to brush her fingers over his chest. “So are you Bog, beautiful.” 

He gave her a crooked tooth smile and Marianne felt her insides flip in delight at his smile. 

She snaked her fingers along the edge of his underwear at the same time she brushed her lips teasingly across his mouth. Bog reached over and hooked one finger over the edge of her panties, his fingers cool against her skin, though the shivers his touch caused were hot, a touch that made her breasts feel heavy and sensitive, and her groin ached. She had never wanted to be touched like she wanted Bog to touch her. He dragged the back of his finger along her stomach, a caress that barely touched her skin, but made heated blood race through her. Every nerve ending burned for him to touch more of her. She needed him so much she would have sworn she would die without his touch. 

Bog removed his hand (and almost made her groan out loud) and pushed his underwear off. She could tell the move was difficult for him; his cheeks were red, but he bared himself to her, stripping away everything between them. Marianne bit her bottom lip, her breathing coming faster. She swallowed, her eyes raking over him, and decided he was even more gorgeous naked. She needed to join him; she pushed her panties down and stepped out. 

She heard Bog’s breath hitch. He stared at her, his eyes tracing the lines of her naked body, burning the image of her beauty, of her small, pert breasts, the swell of her hips and the small triangle of dark hair between her legs into his mind. She was more beautiful than he had imagined. Her eyes traced the lines of his body, the way his hips tapered, the V cut of his shoulders to his waist, the flat muscles of his stomach narrowing down to his groin where dark hair curled. His erection was thick and smooth; he was beautiful in the way he was shaped, the way the lines of his long body flowed. Marianne wanted him even more now. 

Bog’s heart hammered, his body reacting to Marianne, but he found himself not really embarrassed by his physical reaction to her. She was, after all, the most beautiful woman in the world. 

She smiled looking up at him and reached out with one hand. “Come to bed Bog.” 

Bog reached out to her, his fingers brushed against her hand, and she hooked her fingers catching his fingers and guided him with her toward the bed. 

She released his hand, her heart beating nervously and excitedly at the same time as she sat down on the edge of the bed and scooted back. “Bog…” 

She motioned for him and Bog crawled onto the bed with her. Marianne laid back onto the mattress, her arms out for him to he crawl on top of her. Bog looked nervous and excited, her own emotional state reflected in his blue eyes, but neither or them wished to stop. The barrier that had been between them was shattered, never to return. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around Bog as he leaned on his elbows over her, their naked bodies pressed together, their mouths coming together in a heated kiss. Bog curled his arms around her head, his hands brushing back the tangle of her short, wet hair. Marianne moaned, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, the weight of him pressed against her. Her hands, which she initially placed on his shoulders, glided down his bare back, feeling the satin smooth texture of his skin under her fingertips. At the same time she caressed the back of his legs with her feet. She wanted to touch all of him at once, to feel every part of him; she spread her fingers wide, caressing, touching, squeezing. 

Bog kissed her, his fears draining away while he kissed her, while their tongues twisted and caressed, their hot breath mingling, feeling her smooth body under him. He kissed her feverishly; his lips moved from her mouth, following the line of her neck, his tongue tasting the sweetness of her skin mixed with the clean rain water. He pushed himself down her body, his lips hungry, his tongue needing to lick, to taste her skin. His lips brushed along her skin, dancing along the smooth line of her collar before drifting further down to the swell of her breasts. Bog groaned, brushing his nose against her hard nipple, his body tightening when she responded with a moan of her own. He dragged the tips of his fingers along the top of her other breast, his fingers teasing as he danced along her silky skin, his fingertips tracing around her nipple, but not touching, not yet. 

The gasp Marianne made was both of frustration and pleasure. She needed his touch, craved his touch. The caress of his hot breath against her skin, the tease of his fingers around her breast drove her crazy. But when he finally brushed his fingers over her nipple, Marianne groaned aloud, though she tried to muffle the sound by sucking on her bottom lip. Bog squeezed her breast in response, while covering her other nipple with his mouth. She jerked and shifted when his tongue twirled across her nipple, and at the same time his fingers caressed and tickled over the nipple of her other breast; both sensations made her groin tighten in a wash of wet heat. The need for him to touch her, to be inside her, was agonizing as heat rushed all over her body. Every part of her was on delightful fire. Marianne’s fingers slid across his shoulders and into his hair, sending shivers along his skin and made his erection throb. He dragged his tongue along the sweet pinkness of her rosy nipple before once more sucking her nipple into his mouth, his fingers caressing her other breast. He smiled at the way she shifted and squirmed under him, groaning louder while cradling his head to her chest. 

Bog came back up to her mouth again. The hand covering her breast squeezed, their kisses now more fevered and wanton than before. Neither of them said a word, letting their bodies speak for them, following the call of their passion. Bog reached down between them, only stopping for a moment, but Marianne was quick to reach down, her fingers caressing against his hard shaft guiding him to her. He groaned, laying his forehead against hers at the same time that he slid into her, into the warm, wet, welcoming depths of the woman he loved 

She responded with a low, deep cry when she felt him push into her, his erection filling her. Marianne brought her legs up to wrap them around his waist as Bog thrust into her. His old bed squeaked with each movement, but they both forgot about being quiet. Marianne held onto him, kissing him, her cries mixing with his as Bog cradled her head and thrust, rolling his hips in waves, pressing deep into her. 

Marianne held on, her hands snaking down to caress his chest then back around him to hold on to his back and his rear. Her first orgasm crashed over her, surprising her with how quickly it rose and broke over her when Bog arched his back and firmly pressed into at her. She arched back into the mattress with a cry, her fingers pressed into his arms as she held on. Bog kissed her, made the sensation double in intensity, causing Marianne to realize that up to this point in her life she had never experienced a real, full orgasm. 

Bog adjusted his knees and sat back, pulling Marianne with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist while he held her, one hand around her waist, his hand splayed against her hip, his other hand cradled the back of her head while he kissed her, a deep kiss, his mouth moving over her skin. He continued to move, thrusting his hips into her while Marianne met his thrusts with her own, their bodies’ rhythms matched as they made love. He stared into her golden brown eyes, his fingers coiled into her hair. 

“I love you.” His voice was a husky, passionate whisper, and his blue eyes were bright, so bright they seemed to glow to Marianne. “I love you Marianne.” 

Marianne groaned, gazing back at him. “I love you Bog, I love you.” 

She arched and rose with a cry and the rush of pleasure was almost blinding. She pressed her hands against his back trying to hold on to the reality of him while he brought her to climax like she had never felt before. She pressed her forehead to his, her mouth hovering over his, their bodies and souls connected. “Oh Bog!! Bog…” 

Bog met her climax with his own, gasping for breath, his face contorting with the intensity of his pleasure while he continued to thrust into her. Marianne groaned, watching the pleasure wash over his features, which only made her own ebb and flow to new peaks until they both dropped down to the mattress, their limbs tangled, the passion of their kisses settling into a slow, low burn. 

Bog covered her face with kisses and whispered again. “I love you, I love you…” 

Marianne smiled while she caressed his hair, catching his lips each time they passed over her mouth. “I love you Bog...I love you...”


	8. The Next Morning

Dawn held on tight to Sunny, her arms wrapped around his waist as the young Scotsman drove his bike through some small alleys and paths. (Dawn assumed they were paths, as it was hard to see in the dark and the rain, but they were definitely not roads judging by how bumpy they were before hitting the main road and toward his family home.) The rain came down hard and fast, pinging against her helmet. She closed her eyes with a smile, tightening her grip around Sunny’s torso and laid her cheek against his damp jacket. She had never been happier. That happiness increased when Sunny laid his hand against her arm where she held on, a sweet and tender gesture that made her heart do flips. 

After a few minutes Sunny pulled his bike into the driveway of his family’s home, turning the engine off to coast his bike up the drive. He stopped near the front of his father’s car. He kicked the stand down and eased off the bike, turning to help Dawn before he took off his helmet and gave her a smile. Dawn giggled quietly, hopping off the bike with Sunny’s help before pulling off her helmet and looking over at the other King family home. 

Unlike Bog’s home, which was two floors, Sunny’s family home was a one level stone house with a sizeable front yard. Dawn couldn’t be sure in the dark, but it looked like there might be a large backyard too, judging by the stone path that wrapped around the house (and there weren’t any other houses close by, she noted.) Sunny smiled at her, put his finger to his lips, and motioned her to follow him. 

Sunny led her to the side of the house along the stone path where an old wooden gate connected with a stone fence. He opened the gate--which creaked much louder than stealth demanded--easily heard above the sound of the rain. Sunny expression was somewhere between sheepish and a grimace, which caused Dawn to put her hand over her mouth swallowing a giggle. He grinned at her, tiny wisps of his hair sticking to his face as he took her hand and led her around to the back door. 

Dawn bit her lips as Sunny eased the back door open and tiptoed inside to the kitchen. Dawn was struck by the scent of baked bread and cinnamon. Sunny carefully set his helmet down on a little wooden table by the back door, reached over to take Dawn’s helmet from her before he reclaimed her hand. He kept a hold of her hand while he took off his shoes, his eyes glued to the kitchen entrance while the sounds of dripping water seemed to echo throughout the tiny kitchen. Dawn did the same, taking off her shoes and damp socks. 

Sunny then led her quietly through the kitchen into a small hall that ran between the living room and the kitchen, down the hall that was lit by a dim, orange hall light. There were three doors down this way, two closed, and one open. 

They tiptoed down the hall, walking by the one closed door on the left; Dawn heard the sounds of light snoring, barely audible through the door. The opened door they passed by on the right Dawn saw was a bathroom. At the last closed door, Sunny reached for the knob. Moving with exaggerrated care, he opened the door. Sunny pulled her inside and closed the door, releasing her hand to flip a switch. Dawn winced for a moment before her eyes adjusted to the bright light. 

Sunny’s room was small, comfortable, though it was made that much smaller by the cot for Bog that was taking up half the room. The cot was currently pushed up against a wall (Dawn frowned, wondering how on earth Bog was expected to sleep on such a short cot) in an attempt to make space for moving around the room. There was another bed, a twin, in the right side corner, a small tv that sat on a bookshelf, and she could see a gaming system on one of the shelves and a couple of controllers. Dawn grinned at the image of Bog and Sunny sitting on the floor, playing games together, but most of the room was taken up by several guitars, all of different shapes and styles. Some of the guitars were on stands and several were hung on the wall. Among the guitars, she saw a dulcimer, and a violin in a corner along with stacks of notebooks that sat precariously in corners and against the walls. The other thing that Dawn noticed in her first moments in Sunny’s room was that the walls were plastered with the posters of bands and singers of all varieties of music. If anyone had any doubt that Sunny was a musician, his room was a dead give away. 

Sunny smiled, blushing a bit. “Welcome to my nightmare.” 

Dawn laughed. “Funny, Alice Cooper?” 

Sunny grinned. “See, that right there is why I love you.” 

Dawn giggled with a blush, her cheeks a soft pink. 

Sunny blushed too and motioned awkwardly. “Ah, you can sit anywhere…” 

Dawn gazed at his room, at the bed, the guitars, posters, all the bits that made up the man she had fallen in love with before she turned and grabbed Sunny, surprising the young man as the tiny, delicate blonde grabbed him like a hungry wolf, yanking him toward her. Sunny made a soft, surprised yelp as Dawn wrapped her hands around the front of his sweater hauling him toward her, her mouth pressed against his. There was a short pause, a breath held before her tongue licked his mouth. 

Sunny grabbed her hips, hesitating only a moment before he pulled her closer, kissing her as if she was his only form of air. 

Dawn made a small, desperate moan and yanked his jacket over his shoulders until it was down to his elbows trapping his arms. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him with her, walking backwards, trying to navigate her way toward Sunny’s bed. Sunny’s hands slid up to her waist, he turned them both around until he was the one walking backwards, moving with blind knowledge of someone who knew the space they were in like the back of his hand. 

When the back of his legs hit the bed Sunny, dropped down into a seated position. Dawn crawled onto his lap and straddled him. Dawn’s hands moved from his shirt to cup his face in her hands, her mouth moving over his lips, unwilling to stop kissing him. 

Sunny slid his hands around her, wrapping her in his arms, holding her close, losing himself in the sweet scent of her, the warmth of her body against him. He nipped her lips softly before he pulled back to look at her light blue eyes. 

“Dawn, maybe I could take yer top off?” Sunny asked, his voice hushed. 

Dawn grinned at him, her light blue eyes twinkled. “Only if you let me take off yours.” 

Sunny blushed before he nodded. “Aye…” 

Dawn pulled her pajama top off over her head only to hear Sunny, who had just started to lift his sweater up, take in a quick breath when he saw she wasn’t wearing a thing underneath. Her breasts were small, firm, just the right size for his hands, and her skin was perfect he thought, smooth like cream with just a hint of pink, as if she had been brushed with a rose. 

Dawn blushed brightly when she saw him staring at her. “Sunny?” 

Sunny’s eyes snapped up from her breasts; his cheeks and ears had to be cherry red he thought. “Sorry...I...uh…” He smiled embarrassed. 

Dawn wrapped her arms around herself. “Is something wrong?” 

Sunny gently took her hands and eased her arms down. “No, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen Dawn. Ye just made me speechless.” 

He caressed her throat with the back of his fingers. “You are beautiful Dawn.” 

She giggled at the compliment, but her smile was soft and sweet. “Your turn.” 

Sunny blushed and nodded, pulling his sweater over his head. He tossed his sweater to the floor and wrapped his arms around Dawn again, at the same time planting light kisses along her shoulder and across her collar. Dawn leaned into his attentions, her eyes falling closed. His lips were soft and tender against her skin. At the same time she ran her hands along his chest, feeling the few soft curls of hair that were gathered between his pecs, her hands following the smooth planes of his torso down to his stomach before her hands traveled back up to his shoulder. Sunny’s lips followed the line of her throat to her jaw before finding her lips again, his tongue sliding into her mouth. He laid back against the bed, taking her with him. Dawn wrapped her arms around his head, her fingers playing with his hair, her lips and tongue danced gently with his, and her body burned with delicious want. Dawn wanted to rub herself against him, to feel that soft play of skin against skin. 

Sunny moaned as his hands moved up her back, feeling the silken softness of her under his hands. He moved and rolled, causing Dawn to giggle as he rolled her onto her back with him now on top. 

Sunny gazed down at her, his light brown eyes looked gold in the bedroom light, Dawn thought, more like honey. 

“Dawn, may I make love to ye?” he asked, puncutanting each word with a gentle kiss, one of her lips, her cheek and her lips again. “I want ye…” 

Dawn giggled and reached back to pull the band that held his hair back, out of his hair to let it fall. “Yes Sunny, make love with me,” Dawn purred. “I want you too and I don’t want to wait.” For the next few seconds the two of them giggled as they tried to finish undressing, awkwardly rolling around trying to get out of the rest of their clothing. Sunny finally stood up, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, shoving them down his legs when he stopped short watching as Dawn arched her hips up and pulled her pajamas and panties down before kicking them off. She stopped moving once her clothing was gone when she noticed Sunny hadn’t moved and he was staring again. 

She pushed herself up on her elbows, shy, but not covering herself up. She wasn’t ashamed of her body and she wanted to share herself with Sunny, all of herself. She gave him a smile and a cute tilt of her head while her eyes traveled down his body. The way he was standing, it was as if Sunny had forgotten he was naked. His skin was a smooth, creamy mocha color that made her want to lick him all over. She shivered at her thoughts, and her smile became mischievous as her eyes soaked him in. He wasn’t a big muscular guy, and he wasn’t tall and slender like Bog, but there was a compactness to him, his muscles thicker, but not heavy. A line of curling hair started just under his belly button that went low...oh she thought, her eyes widening a little at the sight of his erection which was...she swallowed a smile, all hers. 

“Everything all right?” she asked when Sunny didn’t move. 

He swallowed and whispered. “Yer so beautiful.” 

Dawn blushed again, her smiled a little embarrassed, but pleased. “Come here Sunny.” 

Sunny stepped over to her like a man under a spell. Dawn sat up, reaching for him. Sunny fell into her arms, gathering her close. 

They melted into each as if they had always been together and always would be… 

* 

Bog woke the next morning with a big smile on his face. He felt as if he were a little drunk; he was lightheaded and his body felt relaxed like he had never been before, as if his limbs were all lose, his entire body made of liquid. He took a deep breath and sighed, content. He was on his back, with Marianne curled up against him. Her naked body was warm, her skin soft. It felt right to have her curled against his side. He had never in his life been as happy as he was right now, deeply in love and she loved him. He grinned, knowing he probably looked goofy, but he couldn’t help it--he was in love, deeply, happily in love. 

He wasn’t sure what had awakened him. He opened one eye. He could see the early morning sun coming in through the bedroom window. The sunlight had that watery look of recent rain, the sky a slight grey and some fog was visible; not thick, but it was there. He thought lazily that it would burn off as the sun rose. It may not actually rain today, but it was going to be cloudy and grey all day by the looks of it. 

As he laid there contemplating the weather, happy to spend the day in bed with Marianne, a frown creased his features. He could smell the scent of bangers cooking...coffee...Oh shite! 

Bog sat up which caused Marianne to thump against the pillow and groan. “Bog…” she said in confusion. 

Bog looked down. “Oh shite, I’m sorry Marianne...I need to get out of here...my Mam, she’s awake!” 

Marianne sat up and for a moment Bog forgot all about trying to get out of the house. She was naked, her short brown hair sticking up in all directions, her lips had the slightly swollen look of all their kissing last night...his morning erection that had been relaxing, sprang to life at the sight of her. 

Marianne smiled sleepily at him, reaching out to pull him back down. “She won’t come wake me for a while yet...come back here.” Marianne pulled him down, wrapping a slender leg around his hips as she pulled him close and snuggled, her hand sliding down his flat stomach, then lower, her fingers caressing through the curling hair at his groin before stroking over his semi-hard erection. 

Bog grunted. She smiled and wrapped her hand around him. 

Bog jerked and stifled a groan when Marianne’s hand wrapped around him, sliding up his erection, creating a shudder that ran through him like a microquake. The pleasure of her touch weakened him, making him crave more even though he knew he should get up and get out before his Mam caught him. He couldn’t... 

“Marianne, I really…” Bog said and tried to move away, but Marianne squeezed his erection just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through him, and at the same time her tongue licked his chin. 

“No talking,” Marianne cooed. “Still too early.” She smiled, her tongue sliding down his throat, her stroking becoming more aggressive. 

Bog groaned as she started to rub her hand up and down, letting go only to drag her fingers over him, making him harder yet. She pressed herself against his side, her breasts pressed against him, her tongue sliding down his throat to his chest when she licked his nipple, the tip of her tongue flicked back and forth across his nipple just before she gently bit him. 

Bog’s eyes rolled. “Marianne…” 

“Shh…” she whispered against his chest, her warm breath another erotic sensation. “You don’t want your Mam to hear...show me how quiet you can be…” she giggled. “Show me what you can do in ten minutes…” 

Bog lifted his head a little, his dark hair sticking up around his head like a porcupine and cocked a brow at her, his blue eyes confused. “Ten minutes?” 

Marianne giggled. “Nevermind...I’ll show you what I can do in ten minutes.” 

She released him only sit up and roll onto him, wiggling as she straddled him at the same time pulling the covers over her head. Bog groaned, reaching out to cup her breasts, all thoughts of escape fleeing at the sight of her, but then she was sliding down on him, warm and wet, hooking her feet under his thighs, her hands sliding down his chest as she arched her body. Bog bit down on a loud moan of pleasure, his erection buried deep inside her. His hands slid down to grab her hips...ten minutes he thought...ten minutes. 

* 

Bog ran his fingers through his soapy hair while Marianne soaped his chest. He was trying to shower quickly, just knowing time was ticking by and any minute now his mother was going to catch him. 

Marianne giggled while she washed his chest, then down his stomach. “Bog, you’re acting like your mother is going to beat you or something.” Her soap covered hands went lower and Bog jumped back a little. “Marianne!” But he said her name with a smile, receiving a playful pout from her before stepping back into the water. 

Bog squeezed his eyes shut to let the water run over his head and rinse off the shampoo. “No, she’s not going to beat me, but she’ll give me a tongue lashing--which is worse. And she’ll be disappointed I didn’t listen to her.” He scrubbed his head and muttered. “And she’ll bring it up, constantly.” 

Marianne giggled again. “Well, I’m sure she would understand…” 

Bog opened one eye to look down at her as the water plastered his hair to his face. “No, she wouldn’t. She’ll take it personally that I disobeyed her.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together trying not to laugh, but she thought it was funny. 

* 

A few minutes later they were dressing. Bog’s mother had packed him a few of his outfits when she kicked him out, but there were still a few things here in the body of his main suitcase. Bog was hopping around trying to pull jeans and a light sweater on at the same time while Marianne dressed in a pair of purple leggings with a white, light, see-through sweater and a little purple sleeveless t-shirt underneath. Since she wasn’t rushing around, she finished dressing quickly and was sitting on the bed pulling on a pair of brown ankle boots, but she was distracted with watching Bog as he turned around, his jeans unbuttoned. (Marianne bit her lip as the desire to yank those jeans off and let her tongue explore some undiscovered territory was very tempting…) His sweater was half on, his arms looked tangled in his clothing as he gasped, just enough of his head popping through the neck of the sweater for Marianne to see his bright blue eyes, his voice muffled. 

“Marianne...we left the shoes and socks downstairs in the bloody doorway! Oh fook!! Me jacket’s down there and our shirts too!” 

* 

Downstairs Brodie could hear his wife singing while she made breakfast. He had just come down the stairs and was walking by the front door when he stopped cold. On the floor, in a puddle of water were two sets of shoes and some socks. He frowned. Was that Bog’s jacket...two shirts… 

Brodie’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, which quickly turned into a smile as he shook his head. He glanced toward the kitchen from where he could hear Griselda singing loudly. 

“Look how the light of the town 

the lights of the town are shining now 

Tonight I'll be dancing around 

I'm off on the road to Galway now…” 

He smiled at the sound of her voice, just as lovely as the day he had met her...his ginger Irish girl... 

But as much as he liked to listen to his wife sing, he also wanted to save his son from Griselda’s wrath. Brodie moved as quietly as he could, thankful that Griselda was in a musical mood this morning as he grabbed up his son’s shoes, socks, jacket, and both shirts (though he smiled, remembering many a rainy night that he and Griselda spent some time in the rain) and carried the items off to bury them in the laundry room. After he was sure he had hidden everything, he raced up the stairs to Bog’s room taking the stairs two at a time while trying to be quiet. 

* 

Bog groaned at the same time he pulled his head the rest of the way through the sweater. “I’m dead fer sure now…” 

Marianne giggled. “Oh Bog I’m…” 

That was when they both heard the knock at the door. They both looked at each other, then the door. 

Bog groaned, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “Ah, shite…” 

The knock was followed by Brodie’s muffled voice on the other side. “Bog, son, I know yer in there. Yer Mam is in the kitchen--if ya hurry I can sneak ye out the back.” 

Bog and Marianne both stared at the door, then at each other again. Bog raced over to the bedroom door, pulling it open a crack to see his father’s blue eyes staring back at him. 

“Well don’t stand around like a great gommy and come on!” Brodie motioned at his son. 

Bog smiled. “Thanks Da.” 

He hurried back into the room and grabbed Marianne up, lifting her off her feet to kiss her. Marianne laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him back with passion. 

Brodie smiled, watching the two of them while keeping an eye on the stairs. After a few seconds he hissed. “All right you two, yer getting married tomorrow. Now come on.” 

Bog gazed at Marianne and whispered. “I love you.” 

Marianne brushed her fingers through his hair. “I love you too.” 

He kissed her one more time before he set her on her feet bending down to grab his spare shoes from his suit case in the next moment. “See ya in a bit for breakfast.” 

Marianne giggled and waved. “Hurry back.” 

Brodie held the door open for his son, glancing back at Marianne. “Why don’t ye go down and run interference.” 

She nodded. “Good idea.” 

She slipped out the door with Brodie holding it open for her and headed down the stairs, but not before she gave Bog a quick kiss on the cheek. He grinned, looking a little silly his father thought, but didn’t they all look that silly when their girls kissed them? Once she had disappeared, the two King men heard Marianne’s voice pitched probably louder than necessary. 

“Morning!” 

This was followed by Griselda’s loud startled gasp. “Oh ye gave me a fright. Good morning. Is yer sister up yet?” 

Brodie grinned at his son. “Okay, let’s go.” 

The two men sneaked downstairs, both moving slowly, the stairs doing their best to betray them with creaks and groans. When they were at the bottom of the stairs, Brodie carefully led his son to the back door, both men creeping along like robbers. The elder King opened the door slowly, his eyes darting to the kitchen where both men could hear Marianne and Griselda talking as he held the back door open and gave his son a pat on the back and whispered, “Go down through the garden and then you can come around that way, just don’t walk too fast.” He pointed to the right. “Come in all casual like.” 

Bog nodded and grinned at his father. “Thanks Da.” 

Brodie grinned back. “I was young once too ye know, and don’t let yer Mam tell ya otherwise, but we didn’t exactly stay apart before our wedding either.” He winked and Bog made a face sticking out his tongue in mock disgust. His father chuckled. “Off with ya.” 

Bog took off down the path through the garden. Brodie watched his son go with a smile just as Griselda called out. “Brodie!! Is that you?? Breakfast is almost ready! Maybe ye should go down the road a bit and see if Bog is coming!” 

“Aye, I will dear!” Brodie yelled back, smiling. 

* 

At Sunny’s family home, Dawn woke up first and felt a silly grin on her face. She was lying on her side, her back to Sunny who was curled up behind her, his arms around her, his thigh between her legs and snuggled close against her back. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her ear. They were both naked, warm, comfortable, happy. She had never felt this good before...of course she had never had sex as good as what she had last night, ever. She smiled snuggling down, she had never felt so relaxed, never so happy and she didn’t want to move. She knew she needed to go, that she should probably head back to her sister, but instead she snuggled even closer to Sunny, burying herself into the sheets lost in her own happiness. 

Sunny murmured in his sleep, his grip on her tightening. He pulled her closer and she felt his lips brush her shoulder. His kisses were light, sweet; he must have thought she was still asleep. 

“Good morning,” she whispered. 

Sunny squeezed her. “Good morning, you sleep all right?” 

Dawn twisted around so she could face him, her eyes bright and her smile sweet and happy. “Yes, I slept wonderfully.” 

Sunny smiled at the same time he brushed his fingers against her cheek. “I could wake up like this every morning.” 

Dawn giggled in response, leaning in to kiss him. 

Sunny pulled her closer, his hand gliding down her cheek, fingertips glided down her throat then further to her breast. He cupped her breast, squeezed gently. Dawn responded with a groan, her hands sliding along his stomach, snaking further down where she felt his erection, her fingertips teasing and made Sunny moan. 

“I want you,” he murmured against her lips. 

Dawn purred. “I want you…” 

Sunny rolled on top of her, his kisses hot, passionate. He moved down her body, gently biting at her throat, her collar until he came to her breast. 

Dawn moaned, her hands in his hand when she felt the hot caress of his tongue on her nipple… 

* 

Hattie yawned, covering her mouth. She was in her pink flowered bathrobe, her dark hair pulled up in a puff of a ponytail. She grinned when she smelled that Brutus was cooking bacon, glod, love a ma who can cook she thought. She was walking past her son’s room, thinking about knocking on the door to see if the boys were awake when she heard what sounded like a moan of pain. Her eyes widened in surprise. She turned around and hurried back over to the door and opened it. 

“Sunny! Bog?!” Hattie started, her mouth open and stopped when she saw her son on top of a blonde woman… 

Sunny yelped, grabbing the blankets and yanking them over his head. This was accompanied by a scream from the blonde, whom she now recognized as Dawn Summerfield, the sister of Bog’s fiancee. 

Hattie screamed, more from surprise, and walked back slamming the door shut. 

That was the moment that Brutus, spatula in hand, came running down the little hall. “What the fook is all the screaming...Hattie?” 

Hattie turned to look at her husband and pointed at her son’s door. “Our son has a friend over.” 

Brutus looked confused. “What are ye on about? His cousin’s in there.” 

Hattie giggled, which quickly turned into a laugh. “No, he has a girl in there--Dawn actually.” 

Brutus frowned, his face furrowing before a light seemed to come on and he snorted. “Oh no, what’d ye do?” 

Hattie blushed. “I opened the door..sounded like someone was in pain…” 

Brutus burst out laughing. 

* 

Sunny groaned and buried his head in the pillows. He could hear his parents laughing on the other side of the door. 

He muttered into the pillows. “Marbh mi…” 

Dawn gently rubbed his back, her cheeks red. “Laughter’s good, isn’t it?” 

Sunny groaned again while Dawn giggled. 

* 

Bog arrived, only a little breathless at the front door of his parents’ home. He did his best to school his features, running a hand down his front before he opened the door and yelled, perhaps a little too loudly. 

“Madainn mhath!!” 

He was greeted by his mother and father yelling back from somewhere in the house. “Madainn mhath!” 

He had just pulled the door closed when Marianne came racing around the corner and threw herself into his arms. Bog laughed and caught her. 

“Good morning again,” he whispered smiling down at her. 

Marianne beamed at him. “Good morning again.” 

Bog melted into her as the two of them kissed. She felt good in his arms; everything about her felt good. He wondered if maybe this was a dream because guys like him did not get the girl, someone like him just wasn’t this lucky, but her lips and tongue were sweet, and her body felt solid and firm against her. His senses were filled with Marianne, and it hit him that this was real. She loved him just as much as he loved her. He turned with her, pressing her against the wall where he had kissed her last night, his hands sliding under her sweater at the same time that Marianne wrapped her legs around his waist... 

They both stopped at the sound of Griselda’s voice. “Och! Ya both have only been separated one night…” She shook her head, but she was smiling. 

Bog flushed pink as did Marianne. She unwrapped her legs from his waist and Bog set her on her feet again. 

“Now breakfast is ready, so get in here while it's hot.” She turned and started to walk back toward the kitchen. “Come on then. Yer Da and you still need to go to the hospital and pick up yer grandda from the hospital.” She muttered as she walked off. “Cannae believe he is going to go out tonight fer yer stag. No, I take that back, I can believe it.” She threw her hands in the air. 

She stopped and turned, glancing over at Marianne. “By the way dear, where’s yer sister? I went to wake her, but she wasn’t in bed.” 

Marianne frowned in confusion. “I’ve no idea…” 

“Here I am! Just went out for a quick walk!” 

None of them had heard the front door open (despite how close they were to the door.) They all turned to see Dawn standing behind Bog and Marianne, in her pajamas (the sound of a motorcycle could be faintly heard in the distance.) 

Griselda frowned. “What’s wrong with ye?! You’re in yer night clothes?” 

Dawn blushed and looked down at herself. “Well, it was just such a beautiful morning that I wasn’t thinking…” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her sister, who only smiled with rosy cheeks and slipped between Marianne and Bog. 

“I’ll go take a quick shower and be right down.” Dawn smiled, walking by Griselda and heading for the stairs. 

Griselda frowned and glanced at Marianne. “She do that often?” 

Marianne shrugged. “Artists.” 

Griselda shrugged. “Aye. All right. You two, breakfast.” 

* 

Breakfast was a bit of a blur for Marianne as they discussed the logistics of putting on a wedding in the back garden. She mostly sat and listened while Griselda, Brodie and Bog discussed the particulars, such as transporting the tables and chairs that were to be delivered today or was it tomorrow? She sat there sipping her coffee as the realization that her fake wedding was tomorrow washed over her. She was both excited, scared, and disappointed that she wasn’t really marrying Bog King. As she watched him, her heart did all sorts of flips and twists. 

She grinned. He was arguing with his mother about some point or other, she wasn’t really sure since their accents had kicked into overdrive and she couldn’t recognize any of the words they were speaking. So she turned her attention to her little sister who sat on her left at the breakfast table. 

“So, where were you?” Marianne asked in a soft tone while taking a sip of her coffee, her eyes on her sister, and her eyebrows lifted in question. 

Dawn blushed, looking down at her plate where she was scooting a bit of toasted crush around with her finger. “I ah...I was with Sunny.” 

Marianne giggled. “What? Did you finally..?” 

Dawn nodded, glancing toward the King family argument, then back to her sister. “Yes and oh my god!! It was fantastic!” She giggled and put her fist against her lips. “I love him so much!” 

Dawn whispered with excitement. “He’s the one Marianne! I’ve never felt like this before...I just…” She sighed. “I love him.” 

Marianne smiled. “Oh Dawn…” She reached over and took her sister’s hand. Dawn brought her other hand around so her sister could see the ring that Sunny had slipped onto her finger, wiggling the fingers of that hand, her eyes bright to match her smile. 

Marianne eyes widened. “Is that…?” 

Dawn blushed brighter. “He told me he wanted something more...it’s not, you know, official, but…” 

Marianne yanked her sister over and hugged her. The sisters giggled happily. 

Dawn pushed back, holding Marianne by her shoulders and grinned at her sister. “I did notice that Bog wasn’t at Sunny’s…so, did something happen?” 

Marianne grinned. “Yes. It happened--several times.” 

Dawn’s eyes widened and she burst into giggles. “Oh wow!” 

Marianne laughed. “He was amazing...just…” She sighed and looked the heroine of a romance novel. “Perfect, just perfect.” 

Dawn giggled with a whispered. “Were there declarations of love, finally?” 

Marianne nodded and whispered back. “Yes. I love him Dawn and…” she smiled. “He loves me.” 

Dawn giggled. “Well that’s nice, since you’re getting married tomorrow.” 

Marianne sighed. “Yeah, but…” She leaned close. “That’s for his family. We aren't really getting married.” 

Dawn glanced over at Bog and his family still arguing about something. “Maybe you should, you know, do it for real.” 

“We haven’t really...I don’t…” Marianne glanced at Bog, the longing clear in her gaze. 

Dawn hissed at her sister. “Hey, there is no hard and fast rule on how people have to fall in love or when or how they get married. You might ask him. I’m betting he would say yes.” 

Marianne blushed. “Maybe I will…” 

That was when there were several knocks at the front door followed by the door opening and Alice’s voice ringing out. “Are you guys ready?” 

Marianne frowned as Alice came into the kitchen followed by all the King women. (At least she assumed all of them, it sure looked like all of them). 

Alice waved. “Guid mornin ladies!! The party bus is waiting!” 

Marianne looked from Alice to Griselda, mouthing at her sister. “Party bus?” 

Griselda grinned. “We’ll be right there Alice.” 

Griselda turned back to Brodie and Bog. “All right boys, we’ll settle this tonight or in the morning during the setting up, but right now the ladies and I are taking Marianne on her hen do.” 

Marianne frowned. “Now? I thought that was going to be tonight? I thought Bog and I were going on a picinic...” 

Griselda smiled and waved her hand, dismissing Marianne’s concerns. “Part of your hen do is tonight, but today we are going to go to the spa. I’ve booked us all a day of beautiful treatments and relaxation.” 

Dawn giggled, whispering at her sister. “Why do I have a feeling this isn’t going to be relaxing in the way she thinks it is?” 

Marianne elbowed her sister. 

Griselda narrowed her eyes at her husband. “I know yer all going to the pub for Bog’s stag, but watch Paden, he’s just gotten out of the hospital, but know yer grandda is going to try to make up for lost time by drinking his weight in Guinness. Don’t let him.” 

Brodie groaned. “Ye act like I have control of my grandda.” 

“Well, try dear.” Griselda patted her husband on his cheek before turning her attention to Bog. She reached up, standing on her tiptoes and cupped her son’s face between her hands. She pulled him down and kissed him on the nose. “You have a good time dear, I think the lads are taking you out golfing, then out to the pub.” 

Bog smiled. “I’ll try Mam.” 

She nodded, then narrowed her eyes at him while she had him down at her level to look him in the eye. “And don’t ye go getting drunk or ending up in jail the night before yer wedding, all right?” 

Bog smiled wider. “I’ll do me best.” 

She sighed, releasing her son and giving him a light smack on the chest. “Och! We’ll end up bailing ye all out before the night is through, mark my words. All right, Marianne, Dawn, let’s leave the clean up to the men!” She tossed her dish towel toward the sink and before Marianne could say goodbye to Bog, she and her sister were whisked out of the kitchen. 

Bog blinked in surprise, glancing over at his father. “Well, I guess we better clean the kitchen or Mam will kill us.” 

Brodie chucked. “Aye, and if’n we’re late picking up yer Grandda, he’ll kill us.” 

Both men laughed and turned clean up the breakfast dishes.


	9. Feud

Marianne had to bite her lip to prevent a moan of pleasure from escaping. She was sitting in a large, comfy black leather chair while soft Celtic harp music played. Her sister was on her left, Griselda on her right and the remainder of the row of chairs held the other King women. 

Marianne had just had her feet soaked, trimmed and scraped, and now Marianne's feet were being rubbed with a creamy foot scrub mixture. Marianne closed her eyes, enjoying the entire experience. She had never been to a full spa and had never had more than her fingernails done, and that only once. She took a sip from a flute of sparkling pink champagne before letting out a soft, happy sigh. 

Dawn giggled while glancing over at her sister. “Enjoying your hen do so far?” 

Marianne grinned over at her sister. “I never knew I needed this in my life.” 

The young woman rubbing her feet, whose name was Morgan, smiled. “All brides-to-be need to be pampered the day before their wedding.” 

Griselda took a long sip of her own champagne and nodded. “Aye, besides ye might as well enjoy yer last moment of peace before marrying my boy. He’s going to be a handful, I’m sure.” 

Marianne laughed, nearly snorting into her drink. “Griselda! Bog is a sweetheart!” 

Griselda looked innocent. “What? King men are difficult and Bog is one of the worst. With that King temper, he’ll make you question why ye married him, but the making up...” Griselda gave 

Marianne a saucy wink. “If my boy is anything like his father, the making up is the very best part. Fook, sometimes you’ll pick a fight just for the making up later.” Griselda waggled her eyebrows with a wide grin. “That’s how I got Bog.”

All the other King women laughed their agreement, or giggled with embarrassment. Dawn snorted a laugh while Marianne turned every shade of red possible. 

Griselda chuckled. “Speaking of Bog, have you two discussed children yet?” 

Marianne paled slightly. “Ah, no, not yet.” 

Griselda finished off her drink. “So, how many do ye want? I would have liked more, but…” She laid a hand on her stomach. “Just wasn’t in the cards for me and Brodie.” A sad smile drifted over her features. “Brodie was so good to me after Bog. Bog was a rough pregnancy, almost thought several times I was going to lose the little bug, but he pulled through…” 

Marianne frowned. “I didn’t know...I’m so sorry.” 

Griselda smiled, though a hint of unshed tears stood in her eyes. “I guess that’s why I’ve always been so set on him finding a nice girl and getting married. The poor boy had it rough from the start. Premature, skinny little thing with wide blue eyes. He struggled to thrive while the doctors told me I couldn’t bear anymore children.” She sighed as she stared at her empty glass. “Nothing’s ever been easy for that boy. I just want the best for him. I want to see him happy, really happy with a family of his own.” She looked up. “I love him so much Marianne. I just…” Griselda swallowed. “...I just...thank you. Thank you for seeing Bog, really seeing my boy for the man he is and loving him, even with all his prickly parts.” 

Marianne blinked back tears, pushed down an annoying wave of guilt, and reached over to take Griselda’s hand. “Thank you for raising such a wonderful man for me to fall in love with.” 

Griselda sniffed and gave Marianne’s hand a squeeze. “All right--enough of that nonsense. We are here to enjoy ourselves and to have a party tonight. So, can we get a refill?” 

The young woman painting Griselda’s toe nails stood up with a smile. “Of course Mrs. King.” 

She hurried off to open another bottle of champagne just as the door at the front of the spa opened. Four women stepped into the spa. Their affluence was clear in their clothing, nice with that “expensive” look, the sort of clothing Marianne had seen in catalogues. It was clothing she couldn’t afford most of the time, and even if she could, she couldn’t bring herself to spend that amount of money on clothing. Even their hair and makeup had a professional, expensive look with perfect highlights in their hair and makeup with an almost airbrushed quality. The four women were chatting, and Marianne noted their Scottish accents had a clearer tone, almost sounded British. It made Marianne think of the difference between how someone spoke at home in contrast to being in a professional setting. In the case of these four, it made them sound a bit snobbish. Judging from the looks they were getting from the other patrons of the spa as well as the staff, they all agreed with Marianne’s silent assessment. The four young women also didn’t care who heard them. The volume of their conversation, as well as their clothing and overall appearance drew everyone's attention. Marianne also noted that two of them were identical twins, both blonde (professional bottle blondes if she wasn’t mistaken) with one dressed in all pink and white, the other in pale yellow, like a couple of stuck up Easter eggs Marianne thought. 

One of the twins, dressed in an outfit that was clearly tailored for her, a pencil skirt, silk blouse, the entire outfit, including her heels, was in soft pinks and white. 

She laughed loud enough for everyone to hear her and spoke as if she wanted to make sure everyone in the spa heard her. “I can’t believe that Bog King, that Irish mutt found someone to take him. I mean, of course it was an American! That was the only way that ugly King boy could have found anyone to marry him.” She laughed, bringing her heavily ringed fingers up as if she were trying not to be loud, but couldn’t help herself. “Do you remember him in school Melody? He was just so embarrassing!” 

Her twin laughed just as loud as her sister, a sound too high pitched and artificial to be anything but a fake laugh. “I know!! Why would anyone take him? He looks like a cockroach.” 

The four women laughed, pleased with their cruel joke. 

Marianne’s eyes widened in disbelief. She felt herself start to get up, her pretty face turning into a dangerous scowl, but Dawn put a hand on her shoulder. “Marianne, don’t. Just ignore them.” 

Griselda hissed beside Marianne. “Couple of fooking bitches.” 

Marianne turned to look at Griselda. “Who the hell are they?” she asked in a low, angry tone, her brown eyed gaze filled with fire. 

“That my dear, are Graham Fanning’s sisters, Felicity and Melody Fanning, both a couple of cunts. The only woman worse than the two of them is their mother Millie, the biggest cunt of them all.” Griselda practically growled as she spoke. 

All the women of the King family shot glares at the small group consisting of the two Fanning sisters and their friends as they waited at the reception desk. One of the spa’s employees hurried over to check them in. The one named Felicity continued her loud talking, which Marianne was certain was on purpose. These women had to know about Marianne and her bridal party being here today and had come for the express purpose of causing trouble for some reason. 

The one named Felicity said to her twin, “Bog was always so pathetic, chasing me or you around like a little sad puppy.” Felicity grinned at her sister. “Like a very ugly puppy.” Both girls laughed. 

Felicity chuckled. “I guess he had to fly over the ocean just to find someone pathetic enough to take him.” 

Marianne snarled, but Griselda reached over and laid a hand on Marianne’s arm. “It’s not true, by the way,” she whispered. “Felicity and her sister were always after Bog to go out with them; girls wanted in on the King name and the respect our family has here.” She snorted. “The Fannings have money, but that’s it. No one likes them and it used to drive those little cunts mad. Bog always knew what kind of girls they were--nasty, cruel, huddy, glaikit, jakey bitches, just like their mother. When he refused their advances, they started to make his life even worse than it already was...” Griselda sighed. “I hated that there wasn’t anything I could do, but…” She glared at the Fanning sisters. “They’ll get theirs, at some point.” Griselda muttered under her breath. “Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat.” 

Marianne and Dawn exchanged a look and started to giggle, despite having no idea what any of Griselda’s insults had meant. It sounded vicious, though. Marianne wondered if she could learn a few Gaelic insults. 

Griselda glared over at the ladies waiting to be checked in as she patted Marianne’s arm. “Don’t pay them no mind. Their mother and I had run ins over Brodie too. Those harpies cannae stand the lose.” 

Morgan hissed quietly as she rubbed Marianne’s food. “They’re both a couple of mangled fuds.” 

Griselda snorted on a laugh while Marianne and Dawn looked confused again. Griselda leaned over and whispered. “She said they’re a couple of misshapen vaginas.” 

Marianne burst out laughing as did her sister, drawing the attention of the four women at the reception desk. 

Marianne ignored the four women, leaning back in her chair, and closing her eyes as Morgan began to rub lotion over her feet. She was happy, in love, and going to fake marry the guy she was in love with, so some resentful bitches were not going to ruin that for her. 

After Morgan finished rubbing the lotion into Marianne’s feet, she put cotton between Marianne’s toes and began painting her toenails when the unmistakable accented voice of Felicity Fanning said with disgust. 

“What color is that?” 

Marianne’s eyes popped open to see Felicity Fanning now standing by Morgan, dressed in a fluffy pink bathrobe with a glass of champagne and looking at Marianne’s feet with disgust. 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at Felicity, who wasn’t looking at her as Morgan replied. “It’s called Berry Fairy Fun. Would you like to…” Morgan began, but Felicity just sniffed. “No thank you, that’s a disgusting shade. I don’t understand why anyone would pick something so revolting.” Felicity’s eyes shot up to meet Marianne’s and she gave her a fake smile. “I’m sorry dear.” Felicity sipped her drink. “Aren’t you the American everyone in town is talking about? The one marrying Bog King?” 

“I am,” Marianne said, proud that she kept her tone neutral. 

Felicity smiled. “Well, I suppose it takes all kinds.” She walked off heading toward the back of the spa. 

Marianne narrowed her eyes and hissed. “What a cunt.” 

Griselda grinned. “Oh listen to you. Becoming one of us.” 

* 

Bog frowned with a concerned glance back at his great grandfather. He had to admit, the old man looked good for just being released from the hospital, chipper really. His color was good, he was all smiles about the wedding tomorrow, getting to go golfing, and the promise of going to the pub tonight. If Bog hadn’t known better, he would have said there had never been a thing wrong with Paden at all. 

Brodie parked, glancing over as Theo pulled up beside him with Iain and Iain’s boyfriend Kenneth, as well as Brutus and Sunny. A couple of other vehicles pulled up, carrying the rest of the male side of the King family, all of them unloading from their vehicles and pulling out golf clubs. Bog could hear them already giving each other a hard time, the teasing starting in full force before their had even hit the green. 

Bog turned around to look at his great grandfather. “Are ye sure about…” 

Paden snorted. “Bog my boy, when I cannae play a round of golf, then ye might as well bury me because I’ll be dead. Now shut up and let's go play or are ye scared I’ll wipe the green with yer skinny arse?” 

Bog smiled and shook his head, pushing open his door. “I know ye’ll wipe the green with my arse. You’ve been playing about a century now.” 

Paden laughed. “Good lad, knows when he’s already lost.” 

* 

The golf course was beautiful, with green rolling hills and trees along the edges. The view was spectacular, Bog thought, even with the clouds rolling in, or because of them. Bog grinned leaning on his club as he watched his father lining up his swing. Paden was sitting on one of the golf carts, cursing up a storm. (Bog was sure his great grandfather thought he was being quiet, but he was being so loud that everyone heard every single curse.) The old man was angry because everyone kept making him sit down and rest. Iain had at least brought a cooler with him filled to overflowing with cans of Tennent's Lager so Paden had a can in hand, which was probably the only reason the old man was staying in the cart willingly, even with the cursing. 

“Brodie! Stop staring at the fooking ball and hit it!” Paden yelled from the golf cart. “It ain’t going to grow fooking wings and fly into the little hole fur ya!” 

Brodie turned to glare at his grandfather. “Ye keep it up auld man and I’ll put ye right back in that hospital!” 

Paden gave his grandson the finger, but Brodie just laughed at his grandfather. Bog chuckled with a happy shake of his head. It was fun being with his family again, and he was in love and happy. The world seemed perfect at this moment, which should have been a warning, Bog thought, because that was when Bog saw a couple of golf carts coming across the green behind them. He narrowed his eyes trying to see who it was when he paled and took a steadying breath. It was that fooking ginger wankstain Graham Fanning. And if he wasn’t mistaken, that was the little cunt’s father with him, Michael. The other cart held a couple of more men that Bog knew from school, toadies of Graham, Kevin Kiernan and Duncan Higgins, both a couple of arse kissing cunts. 

Bog muttered under his breath. “Fook me.” 

Alfie turned toward his grandson, frowning. “Bog, everything all right?” 

Bog motioned with his head. “What the fook are they doing here?” 

Alfie’s frown deepened when he saw the two golf carts. “Those bawbag lickin Fannings. I thought we had the green reserved today.” 

Iain, who was leaning against Kenneth's chest with a can of lager, hissed. “Fannings think they own everything.” 

Theo sucked in his bottom lip for a moment before he said quietly. “Just ignore ‘em. I’m betting Graham just came out here to try and get some sort of stupid revenge after Bog beat him in front of everyone.” 

Bog grumbled. “It wasn't exactly like that.” 

Theo grinned at his cousin. “Well, that’s how everyone in town in describing it, that you and yer girl made Graham look like a roaster.” 

Bog chuckled. “Well, that doesn’t really take a lot now does it?” 

Everyone laughed as the golf carts pulled up and stopped. All the King men turned to look as Michael and Graham Fanning, dressed in matching salmon colored slacks, white polos and golfing caps, hopped out of their cart and walked over, followed by Duncan and Kevin, though Graham had a nasty bruise on his face and there was bruising around his nose, which still looked slightly swollen. Bog smirked as he watched them approach. 

Michael Fanning was a balding, red headed man with a red nose and a growing middle who’s shirt looked as if it were stretched too thin over his stomach. He looked like a stuffed turkey Bog thought, with his chest puffed out like that and looking like he owned all of Scotland. 

Michael smiled, showing off unnaturally white teeth that almost glowed in the grey morning light as he approached. “If it isn’t the Kings.” Michael Fanning infused the sentence with a great deal of venom. “Out here pretending like you lot know how to golf.” 

Paden muttered loudly from his seat in the golf cart before taking a sip of his drink. “If it isn’t the fooking twatwaffle Fannings.” 

Bog snorted on a laugh, as did all the Kings. 

Brodie sighed. His efforts to line up his swing clearly were going to have to wait a little longer as he turned and walked over to the Fannings with his golf club resting on his shoulder. “What the fook do ye want Michael? We’re playing golf,” he said, as if speaking to a stupid child. “Ye here to golf or to just be an annoying fook like usual Michael?” 

Michael Fanning glared at Brodie, then Bog. “I heard you’re the one that hit my son the other night at the pub. I’m thinking about pursuing legal action.” 

Bog snarled. “What the fook?!” He turned his blue eyes on Graham. “Ye too much of a scrote to fight yer own fights Graham? Had to go get yer Daddy?” 

Graham took a step toward Bog, but his father put his arm out to stop hi son. Graham snarled, but Bog grinned at him. “I bet you didn’t tell yer Daddy how my fiancee’s the one that hit ye in the nose?” 

Graham snarled. “Shut up, you fucking bawbag.” 

Michael hissed at his son. “Don’t lower yourself to their level, Graham.” 

Paden hopped out of the golf cart and walked over. “Awa’ you can chew mah banger Michael Fanning, you and that little cunt of a son of yours. Yer just as bad as yer auld Da, yer a cunt, yer father was a cunt and yer son’s a cunt. and I bet any fooking grandkids ye get out of that ginger wankstain are gonna be little cunts too.” 

Iain burst out laughing, followed by Sunny, then the rest of the King men. Bog covered his mouth with his hand, but he was nearly in tears laughing. 

Graham and his father looked about ready to blow. Then Graham did something monumentally stupid. 

“Hey Bog, ye ugly cunt. Yer lassie likes tae sook ma boaby!!” Graham grabbed himself for emphasis. 

Bog just wasn’t in the mood. He had put up with Fanning in school, he had put up with a lot of shite from a lot of people, people trying to tear him down, people making him feel small, ugly, unwanted, and he had let them. But now he had the love of the most beautiful woman in the whole of the goddamn world. Marianne loved him and he loved her and he didn’t need some little twat like Graham Fanning and his father trying to ruin what was shaping up to be a beautiful day with his father and the rest of his family. 

Bog tossed his golf club to the side and moved with a speed that surprised everyone. He stepped past his father and his great grandfather without a word and slugged Graham across the face. 

* 

Marianne sighed as she lay on her back, wrapped in a fluffy pink towel, soft harp music playing, the room filled with the scents of sage and lavender while another young woman named Emma gave Marianne a cranial massage. She sighed again, her entire body going slack, more relaxed than she had ever felt. This was great, she thought with a lazy smile. She would have to take Bog to a spa when they returned to the states, a spa day for the two of them. She smiled, thinking about being in a sauna with Bog, wearing only towels... 

Marianne had had her fingernails done, a mud wrap, oil treatment, and now she was getting the cranial massage. She had drank perhaps a little more champagne than he had intended and was feeling sleepy and a little tipsy, but good. On her right Dawn was having the same treatment. She could hear the whispered talking between Dawn and the young woman massaging her sister’s head. Griselda was having a back massage two tables down, and Hattie and Alice were both in the sauna. The rest of the King women were scattered throughout the spa in various stages of getting some sort of exotic treatment. 

Marianne sighed again with a contented smile, her thoughts drifting to Bog and her wedding tomorrow--even if it was fake--while she relaxed. She had gratefully not run into the Fanning sisters for the last hour or so, which was allowing her to enjoy her day. 

She heard a couple of people enter the room, but was too close to drifting off to sleep to really pay any attention to them until she heard Felicity Fanning’s annoying voice. 

“Oh, it’s you again--the American.” 

Marianne sighed and opened one eye. She turned her head to see that Felicity Fanning and her sister had taken the two empty places on Marianne’s left. Great, Marianne thought. Just perfect. Marianne took a deep breath through her nose, decided that she was going to be the bigger person and not take the bait. She told herself that these poor women were clearly unhappy with their lives, which was why they decided to be such bitches and try to ruin her hen do. She willed herself to relax, turned away and closing her eyes again when she heard Felicity speak in her loud and annoying voice. 

“So, is he paying you to marry him?” 

Marianne felt heat rise in her neck and across her cheeks. That insult hit just a little too close to the truth, even if things had changed dramatically between her and Bog. She opened both eyes and turned to glare at Felicity. 

“What exactly is up your butt?” 

Felicity smiled. “Oh aren’t you charming? Just when I thought the King family couldn’t get any lower. My mother thought that Brodie King marrying an Irish woman was as low as one could go, but then Bog has to go and find an American to marry.” She humphed. “I guess Bog managed to find a way to be lower than his father by marrying some rot twat American slut, though I suppose only an American would marry that ugly cockroach.” 

Marianne’s anger welled up hot and fast. She didn’t really care what Felicity Fanning called her, but no one was going to insult her Bog, the man she loved. And now that she knew what Bog’s life had been like in school because of people like this bitch and her brother and sister, Marianne wasn’t going to put up with it any longer. 

She rose up off her massage table, causing Emma to squeak in surprise as Marianne moved so quickly that Felicity, who had been turning to say something to her sister, didn’t see Marianne until Marianne’s fist connected with her nose with a satisfying crunch. 

Felicity screamed. 

Melody screamed. 

Marianne smiled down at Felicity. “No one insults my husband-to-be.” 

* 

It was late afternoon at the local police station, and a light, gentle rain had started to fall only minutes ago. The police station was usually quiet this time of the day, but the station was seeing more action today than they did in a six month period. 

Officer James Connolly sighed as he walked with one hand on the upper arm of Bog King and the other on Graham Fanning, leading both men toward the set of the four holding cells in the police station. Both men looked a little rough, with torn shirts and grass stains all over their clothing, Graham Fanning looked like a man who had been in a fight; he had a broken nose, one eye swollen shut, and a bloody lip. Bog, on the other, sported a bloody lip, a small bruise on his right cheek, and scraped up knuckles on his right hand, but otherwise looked untouched, though he had a smile on his face. 

Graham snarled at the officer. “I don’t see why I’m being held! He started it.” 

Bog didn’t say a word, though he gave Graham a dirty look over the top of Officer Connolly’s head. Bog was more worried about what his mother was going to say--and Marianne. Getting arrested...well, they hadn’t been charged with anything yet, but getting dragged to the police station to cool off the day before his wedding (fake or otherwise) didn’t really look good. Hell, Bog thought, it was only the afternoon. They hadn’t even made it to the pub! He frowned with a sigh. His mother was going to kill him. 

Officer Connolly had been called by one of golf course staff when the fight broke out on the golfing green. By the time Officer Connolly had arrived, the fight was pretty much over. Paden had punched Duncan Higgins in the face, leaving the young man whimpering on the ground holding his face. Brodie and Michael were at each other's throats, both men tangled together, but with Brodie getting the upper hand which turned into a hard punch to Michael Fanning’s soft middle. Kevin Kiernan clearly had enough brain cells that when he saw that they were outnumbered by the Kings, had hopped into one of the golf carts and taken off leaving the Fanning’s and his friend Duncan to fend for themselves. 

The golf course manager, a man named Gordon Carlyle--luckily--was a friend of Brodie’s, and knowing what the Fannings were liked, hadn’t wanted to press charges, though he had accused the Fannings of starting the fight by going out on the green when the King family had reserved the course for the morning. Officer Connolly was also aware of how every member of the Fanning family was like and had no difficulty believing that it was the Fanning family that had started trouble. 

Officer Connolly snarled at Graham. “Mr. Fanning, if you don’t shut yer mouth, I will charge you with drunk and disorderly.” 

“But I ain’t drunk! I haven’t even been drinking!” Graham protested. 

Connelly hissed. “Then I suggest you shut yer trap Graham.” 

“Yes Graham, shut up,” Michael Fanning hissed from behind his son. 

Behind Officer Connolly, a few steps back, another officer, Sheila Glenn was escorting Brodie King and Michael Fanning into the holding cell area in the same way that Connolly was escorting Graham and Bog. 

Michael growled. “I’ll take ye to court Brodie King. I’ll take this whole place to court, the golf court, the police...” 

“Oh shut up yer fookin mouth, ya cockwobble,” Brodie muttered, but then Brodie gave him a grin, before he spoke. “I’m sure Mrs. Fanning wouldn’t like you dragging yer name through the courts. And another thing, Michael Fanning--I doubt you want the courts looking too closely at yer private life, now do ye?” 

Michael’s mouth snapped shut as he glared at Brodie. 

Bog tuned out his father and Michael Fanning squabbling behind him, his thoughts focused on how he was going to explain all this to his mother when he heard Marianne’s voice. “Bog?” Bog stopped moving, which forced Officer Connolly to stop moving as well, and turned to look into the cell on his right. Inside sat Marianne, along with her sister, his mother and his grandmother. 

The other women all gave sheepish waves, but Marianne rushed over to the bars. “Bog!” 

Bog looked confused at seeing Marianne and the others behind bars, then he wondered where the rest of the ladies were at the moment. Marianne had a light bruise forming under her left eye, but otherwise she looked unscathed. And simply beautiful, he thought. (He also noted that rest of the ladies looked untouched). 

“What are ye doing in here?” Bog asked, looking from Marianne to his mother, then to Dawn and his grandmother. It was only then that he saw in the cell next to theirs, the twin Fanning sisters sat on a bench. Felicity Fanning had what looked like a broken nose, (to match her big brother he thought to a grin), while Melody had a bloody lip and a nasty black eye forming. Both young woman were glaring at Marianne. 

“Bloody hell Marianne--what happened?” Bog asked, but he couldn’t quite keep the smile from tugging at the edges of his lips. Whatever had happened, it looked as if Marianne had held her own. 

Marianne grinned. “I punched her.” She pointed at Felicity, who snarled. “Bitch.” 

Marianne smiled pleasantly and gave Felicity the finger. 

Officer Connolly patted Bog on the shoulder. “I’ll come back for you.” 

He led Graham to a cell as Graham yelled. “HEY! Why does he get to stay and talk??!” 

Michael Fanning was put into the cell with his son. “Graham, shut up!!” 

Felicity and Melody had stood up in the meantime and yelled. “Daddy!! Get us out of here.” 

Michael yelled. “Shut the fuck up all of you!! Yer mother is gonna fucking kill me as it is!” 

Bog leaned against the bars of Marianne’s cell, his voice soft as he reached in to cup her face. “What happened exactly?” 

“Well, those two came into the spa and started insulting you.” She shrugged while leaning into Bog’s touch. “I got tired of it.” She tilted her head and gave him an impish grin. “Not the most responsible way to handle a problem, but it felt good.” She giggled. 

Bog stroked his thumb over the bruise on her cheek. She winced a little, but kept her smile. 

Bog chuckled. “My tough girl.” 

Marianne giggled, then motioned with her head toward Graham. “Your turn. What happened there?” 

Bog smiled. “Pretty much the same, showed up and started insulting you. So I told him what I thought of that...just did it with my fist.” 

Brodie was put in a separate cell across from the male Fannings, but he called out to his wife. “Griselda what did you do, my girl?” 

She giggled. “I punched Melody Fanning.” 

Melody yelled. “She took a cheap shot!” 

Griselda grinned. “Well, you should have been paying attention instead of running off at the mouth insulting my son and my daughter-to-be, and ye shouldn’t have tried to jump on Marianne’s back. Talk about a cheap move my dear. You deserved it. Yer mother shoulda taught ye how to fight better. Though I suppose I ain’t surprised, considering how I decked her once.” 

Bog pressed his lips together, but he was struggling to contain his laughter. Marianne giggled again and put her arms through to bars to wrap around him as much as she could. “Sorry about your stag Bog.” 

He continued to rub her cheek. “Sorry about your hen do.” 

Griselda stretched her arms over her head. “Maybe we should just have a party at home, combine the two? I sent the rest of the girls to my house to wait further instructions--we could have a party whipped together in no time.” 

Brodie yelled from his cell. “I think that’s an excellent idea, my girl. Grandda's been drinking since we got him from the hospital and I don’t trust him not to get into another fight if we to to the pub anyway.” 

Griselda was about to say something about how she had told him not to let Paden drink, but thought better of it since they were both currently in holding cells for fighting. 

Officer Connolly came over to get Bog. “Sorry Bog, but I need to …” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, I understand.” 

Bog smiled at Marianne as he was escorted to the cell with this father. 

Connolly’s gaze traveled over all of them once he had locked the door on the male Kings. “All right, I have a few calls to make, then I’ll be back to discuss what happens next.” He glanced over to Brodie and Bog. “Someone’s got a hold of Paden right? Dinnae really want to arrest the town’s oldest resident...and I don’t want him to punch me.” 

Brodie chuckled. “Dinnae worry officer, my Da has him.” 

Officer Connolly nodded with a smile before he turned to his fellow office. “Officer Glenn, keep an eye on our guests.” 

She nodded. “Will do sir.” 

Connolly left. 

The Kings and the Fannings glared at one another, but no one said a word. 

* 

They all ended up sitting in the cells for well over an hour before Officer Connolly returned. Talk was kept to a minimum mostly since any time the Kings began to speak to each other, the Fannings started to either yell over them at each other, or interrupted the conversation by inserting themselves into it. Marianne thought it was like being in a room full of rowdy kindergarteners. 

Connolly stopped in the lane between the cells. “All right everyone--I have some good news, neither the spa nor the golf course wants to press charges.” 

Michael Fanning stood up. “Well, I do!” 

Connolly narrowed his eyes at the older man. “It seems that both businesses have stated that the Fannings were the aggressors and if you insist on pursuing this, then I will be forced to... ” 

Michael Fanning sat down. “Nevermind,” he muttered. 

Connolly smiled. He was not too fond of the Fannings either, having been on one too many calls by them that were just simply cases of people being people who annoyed the Fannings or the Fannings thinking they deserved special treatment by the police because their family had money. If you could arrest someone for being pig-headed, self-centered, and a plain fucking asshole, Officer Connolly would have arrested the lot of the Fanning family ages ago. 

“So, I will let you all go on two conditions. One: that you both stay away from each other. And two: you confine yer parties to King property.” Connolly looked at both Griselda and Brodie. 

Brodie looked over at his wife. “Good with you, my girl?” 

She looked at Marianne, who nodded, then at her son who also nodded. She sighed--maybe a little dramatically Marianne thought--before she answered. “Fine. Like I said, the ladies are waiting on my word to throw a party together.” (Marianne wanted to laugh because this sounded like Griselda had an army waiting.) “We’ll just combine your hen do…” She glanced at Marianne. “...and Bog’s stag.” 

Bog grinned, his eyes on Marianne who was staring back at him with a wide smile. “That sounds perfect to me,” he said. 

Marianne nodded. “Me too.” 

* 

The party at Griselda’s and Brodie’s that night was, Marianne had to conclude, fun. There was a lot of food, everyone chipping in on the last-minute party. Sunny provided music stopping at his home to get his guitar with Paden joining in on bagpipes, Theo with a tin flute, and one of the many female cousins bringing her fiddle. There was dancing, some silly drinking games, silly bridal shower games (which with all the men being there turned out to be even more hilarious), and a lot of laughter. It was the best night that Marianne and Dawn had ever had. Coming from such a small family, celebrations were always quiet, but this...Marianne loved the amount of love in this room, the amount of love these people all had for one another and for the two American girls who were sharing in the pre-wedding celebration. Marianne was going to miss them when they returned to the states. They made her never want to leave Scotland. 

As the evening wound into the late night, the music became low and soothing, people broke off into smaller groups, sitting outside, playing a few card games, a few slow dancing or simply talking. Grandda Paden was asleep in one of the chairs, his legs spread out in front of him, snorting lightly, and covered with a blanket that Griselda had put over his legs. Dawn and Sunny were outside, the rain having stopped an hour or so ago and they were dancing slowly to no music, just staring into each other's eyes. Brodie and Griselda were on the couch, in each other’s arms, Griselda’s head on her husband’s chest looking at baby pictures of Bog. (Marianne had delighted in seeing pictures of Bog as a skinny baby with the biggest blue eyes she had ever seen. Pictures of him in a suit and tie, his little face screwed into a scowl, pictures of him fishing, or struggling with a bagpipe. She had loved each and every picture Griselda shared while Bog moaned and groaned like his mother was killing him.) 

Marianne looked around and saw that no one was paying attention to either her or Bog at the moment. She took Bog’s hand and yanked him with her as she headed to the stairs. 

Bog chuckled. “Where are we going?” 

Marianne giggled and looked over her shoulder at him. “Shush.” 

She pulled him up the stairs with a quick look behind them before she yanked him into the bedroom with her, closing the door behind them, and plunging the room into darkness before she giggled and dragged him toward the bed. 

Bog chuckled, putting up a little token resistance just for fun. “What are ye doing?” 

Marianne grinned. She was a little drunk and feeling quite happy. “I plan to take advantage of you,” she said with another slightly drunk giggle. “Before your mother realizes it's the night before our wedding and kicks you out.” She yanked her sweater off and over her head with one hand, tossing it to the floor before she stripped out of her shoes and leggings, wobbling a bit with the effort of walking, dragging Bog, and undressing all at the same time. 

Bog smiled and let her pull him along until they arrived at the bed. She yanked her t-shirt up, but it became stuck around her head while at the same time she worked on getting him out of his clothing. Bog didn’t lift a hand to help her, because he was amused with the frustration on her face as she struggled with his pants. Her shirt had fallen down from her head to hang around her neck like a strange necklace, though she had still managed to get her bra undone with the straps still hanging on her shoulders. Even tipsy, Bog realized that Marianne had the uncanny female power to unhook her own bra easily enough. 

“Why are these things so damn complicated?” she groused at his pants. “I need these off!” 

Bog laughed giving in. “Here--let me.” 

Marianne took a step back and watched with hungry anticipation as Bog unbuttoned his pants and slipped them off. She grinned, licking her lips. “Mmm….yum.” 

Bog blushed and removed his shirt while Marianne finished undressing herself until they were both naked. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around him, pressing her naked body against his with a wide smile. “I love you Bog King,” she said while she rested her chin on his chest. “I love you, I love you, I love you. You are the one man in the world I would go to jail for.” 

Bog laughed, stroking her hair back from her face. “I love you too. I would gladly punch a hundred Graham Fanning’s in your defense.” 

Marianne giggled again. “We are so bad ass.” 

Bog laughed, cupped her face, and kissed her deeply until Marianne thought she had lost the ability to breathe without him. She ran her hands over his chest, skating lower to feel the wonderful planes of his stomach until her hands stroked lower still to caress his erection, delighting in the warm, satin feel of him in her hands. Bog’s groan made her smile grow. 

She pulled back from his kiss with a giggle. “You know...there is something I’ve been wanting to do since last night.” 

Bog smiled lifting a questioning eyebrow. “What is that?” 

She grinned, her brown eyes mischievous as she slowly lowered herself down to her knees. 

Bog blinked in surprise, but any other words were lost when her warm soft lips, followed by her hot, wet tongue began to play over him. 

* 

An hour later Marianne rolled onto her back off of Bog, flopping onto the bed, a little sweaty and panting, her hair a mess, her eyes bright and shiny. 

Bog was lying on his back next to her with a large, goofy grin on his face, his arms and legs spread out on the mattress, sweaty, and his hair a mess. 

He let out a contented sigh. “That was fantastic. I thought that orgasm might kill me.” He laughed. “Can you die of an orgasm?” 

Marianne giggled. “I’m just wondering if there’s such a thing as too many orgasms?” She put a hand up as she spoke. “Like you cross this event horizon and suddenly you are in the constant orgasm zone and it's just a great big one...like you just turn into an orgasm?” 

Bog rolled his head sideways to grin at her. “What are you talking about?” 

Marianne snuggled close. “Nothing, just I think I crossed that event horizon into the giant, never ending orgasm zone.” 

Bog blushed, but his smile was happy. “I’m glad I can please you.” 

Marianne purred, nibbling on his chest. “More than pleased me.” 

Bog wrapped his arm around her, sighing in contentment again when there was a sudden, hard bang against the bedroom door followed by Griselda yelling. 

“All right!! TIME TO GO, BOG!!! GO TO SUNNY’S!! YER GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!” 

Bog blushed bright red, grinning at Marianne. 

Marianne smiled. “You better go.” 

Bog caressed her face. “I love you.” 

Marianne smiled. “I love you too Bog. See you for the wedding.”


	10. The Wedding

Bog hadn’t been able to sleep all night. He tossed and turned staring into the darkness of the room, picking out creepy patterns on the ceiling caused by the streetlight outside and the occasional car. He kept thinking about Marianne, about talking to her, about the way her nose would wrinkle, or the dimples that appeared on her cheeks when she smiled. He thought about the way her body felt next to his, the way her skin felt when he ran his hand along her hip, or the way her eyes glowed softly, changing from brown to gold when they had sex. He was doing his best to be quiet, but lying on the too-short cot and his restlessness, he found it was difficult. He kept shifting position until Sunny had whispered in the dark. “Hey, ya wanna play a game?” 

Bog rolled over to lean up on his elbows; his long legs that had been hanging off the cot hit the floor when he moved. “Game?” 

Sunny sat up. Bog could just made out his cousin’s shadow when he nodded in the dark. “Yeah, we can get online, shoot a few noobs…” 

Bog chuckled. “I don’t know, I’m not that great. And it’s been a while.” 

Sunny snorted. “Fook that Bog. We kicked arse the last time we played!” 

Bog chuckled. “All right then, let’s kick some ass.” 

Sunny laughed and crawled over to turn the light on. He pulled out the game system, followed by a quick few seconds of setting it up, pulling the television into a good position so that he and Bog could sit on the bed side by side. 

Bog smiled. “I missed doing this.” 

Sunny elbowed him. “Yeah, me too.” 

They started the game and soon the two of them were lost in the fun of shooting people in outer space. They played intently for well over an hour before Sunny asked. “You nervous about tomorrow?” 

Bog pressed his lips together, not looking over as he worked on adjusting his character’s armor. “Aye, I am.” He glanced sideways at Sunny. “I love her, more than I thought possible.” 

Sunny grinned. “Well, good thing yer putting a ring on her finger.” 

Bog nodded his agreement, but he felt a cold knot in the pit of his stomach. He was lying about their relationship to his family--even if he did love Marianne now. All of this had been a lie and then with his great grandfather’s scare...He closed his eyes, his fingers tightening on the controller. 

Sunny frowned. “Hey, you okay?” 

Bog nodded. “I just...I just want her to be happy. I want my Mam and Da to be happy...I just…” 

Sunny bumped his shoulder against Bog’s shoulder. “Stop it man. You love her, she loves you, there is a glorious wedding planned for in the morning and on old Paden’s birthday, it’ll be perfect.” Sunny smiled brightly and Bog chuckled. 

“What about you and Dawn? Marianne mentioned Dawn was staying behind when we head back.” 

Sunny blushed a deep rose red under his light brown cheeks. “Yeah, well...might have to have you and Marianne drag yer arses back here for another wedding.” 

Bog lifted a brow at his cousin. “You serious?” 

Sunny nodded. “I ain’t ever felt this way about someone before Bog. Dawn is...she’s...” Sunny shook his head. “She’s the one, I know it.” He smiled shyly. “I wrote a song for her…” 

Bog raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Really?” 

Sunny nodded. “Aye, I just...I couldn’t figure out how to express myself to her…” He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing. “She’s the one. I’m gonna marry her.” 

Bog’s smile grew. “I’m happy for you Sunny.” 

Sunny smiled. “Happy for us both man. We are a couple of lucky eejits.” 

Bog laughed. “Aye, we are Sunny, we are…” 

Sunny grinned. “Now, let’s kick some more arse.” 

Bog grinned focusing his attention on the screen. “Let’s show these bastards what a Scotsmen can do.” 

Sunny laughed. 

* 

Marianne woke with a start. 

For a minute she laid in bed staring up at the ceiling with a confused furrow to her brow trying to remember what day it was and wishing Bog was here beside her to enjoy the warmth of his body next to hers, the smell of his skin, the way his hands moved across her body. She smiled at her thoughts. And then there was his smile, the twinkle in his eyes, and the way his accent became thicker, sexier when they were making love. She sighed happily stretching her arms over her head with a big smile, when she suddenly remembered--today was her wedding day!!! She sat up in bed. She couldn’t help the excitement, and her heart picked up its pac. Yeah, it was a fake wedding she thought, they weren’t really getting married, but damn it, it felt real. She was marrying a man she had fallen in love with, surrounded by her sister and his family, whom she had grown to adore even in such a short time, so it was pretty damn close to real. She wanted it to be real. She wanted to marry Bog King. She pulled on her bottom lip with her teeth trying to decide whether she should just give into her excitement or try to be more...she didn’t know, serious? She mulled that over for a few seconds when she heard a knock at her door. 

“Marianne? You up?” 

Marianne smiled; it was her sister. “Yeah, come on in.” 

The door to the bedroom opened slowly and Dawn stuck her head in. She smiled at her big sister. “Sorry, it’s still really early, but…” 

Marianne put her arms out. “Come here.” 

Dawn raced into the room and pounced on her big sister. The two women wrapped their arms around each other flopping back onto the mattress, hugging tightly. 

After a few seconds they both settled down, lying on their backs and holding hands. 

“So, you nervous?”” Dawn asked, glancing sideways at her sister. 

Marianne frowned in thought. “Yes, a little, but I’m excited too. And I also feel…” She sighed rolling her head over to gaze at Dawn. “I hate lying to his family, but I also just want to marry him--for real.” 

Dawn frowned at her big sister and then giggled. “Why don’t you two just do it then? Then all this wouldn’t be a lie.” 

Marianne smiled. “Maybe...if I get a chance to talk to him. We are going to snag the marriage license before or after the reverend marries us. If it doesn’t get filed, then we won’t be legally married. So maybe I’ll convince Bog to just let it be filed instead.” 

Dawn smiled and shifted closer. “You know, I’m so happy to see you so happy. I never would’ve thought you would fall in love with the guy who asked you to fake marry him.” 

Marianne chuckled. “Me either, but I do Dawn. I...” Marianne pressed her lips together, but Dawn could see the hint of tears in the corner of her sister’s eyes glittering like tiny diamonds. “I love him so much. Is that stupid?” 

Dawn giggled. “You’re asking me? I just agreed to stay in a foreign country because I fell in love with a guy in a few days. I don’t think asking my opinion is such a good idea.” 

Both sisters laughed. 

Marianne rolled onto her side and pulled her sister into her arms and held her tight. “Well, we both may be crazy, but I think being crazy in love is one of the best kinds of being crazy.” 

Dawn hugged her sister back with a tight squeeze. “Mom would be cheering us on.” 

Marianne whispered. “Daddy is going to have a heart attack.” 

The two sisters giggled, holding on to each other. 

* 

They had both fallen back to sleep together like they had done when they were younger, sharing a bed sometimes when they needed each other. They were both woken by the sounds of a heavy fist against the door. 

“Up ladies!! Time for breakfast!!” 

It was Griselda. She had gone to Dawn’s room first only to find the young blonde gone and had assumed she was with her sister, the night before her big sister's wedding; she was sure the two young ladies had a lot to talk about. 

Marianne sat straight up and yelled without opening her eyes. “I’m up!” 

Griselda laughed. “Well, come down for breakfast. The hair and makeup ladies will be here within the hour. Brutus and a few of the others are going to be here any minute now to set up in the back garden for the ceremony! ” 

Marianne looked confused “Hair and makeup?” 

Dawn sat up rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hand, while her blonde hair stuck up around her head like the rays of the sun. “Yeah, Iain and Kenneth have a couple of friends, drag queens who are coming in to do hair and makeup.” She frowned for a moment before her face brightened. “Their names are Spicy Cheese and Helen Humps. I guess Iain knows them from work, they all work at a club called the Slippery Nipple.” 

Marianne blinked in confusion, a small frown on her face, but then she shrugged. “Okay.” 

* 

Breakfast was pure chaos. 

When Marianne and Dawn came down both wearing yoga pants and t-shirts, the house was already filled with Kings. Marianne heard shouting out back and hurried to look out the window into the back garden. She could see Brutus and a few others outside setting up the circle arch, lines of folded chairs, a tent, some tables… 

Paden was out there sitting on one of the chairs with a can of something in his hand. Marianne wasn’t sure exactly what the old man was doing, but it seemed to involve a lot of cursing, pointing and drinking. Just see him sitting out there in his kilt made her smile. It was the man’s birthday and apparently, by the smile on his face, this was the best present he could have asked for, seeing one of his great grandchildren married. She had grown to love Bog’s great grandfather just like she had grown to love every member of his family in the short time they had been here. 

Marianne’s heart started to beat faster, harder; this was really happening. She knew it was happening, but it was really happening. She didn’t have time to contemplate her wedding any longer before Griselda came up behind her and shoved a biscuit into her mouth. Marianne blinked in surprise, the biscuit had both eggs, bacon, cheese and spinach. She grabbed it with both hands finishing the bite that Griselda had forced into her mouth. 

Griselda smiled. “Now I know you probably aren't feeling like eating. You probably have the collywobbles something fierce, but trust me, yer gonna want to eat. This is gonna be a long day and you are going to need yer energy my dear.” 

Marianne smiled as she chewed. “Thanks, I’m just so…” She sighed and took another bite of the sandwich, her eyes wide as she watched the chaos outside. 

Griselda rubbed Marianne’s back. “I remember my wedding day. I was so nervous! And it was a chaotic storm of conflicting traditions between my Irish family and the Kings.” She laughed. “Chaotic, but wonderful.” She smiled at the memory and glanced sideways at Marianne. “Ye are going to cherish these memories, the good, the bad, you are going to look back at this day with a smile for years to come.” 

Marianne swallowed turning to look at Griselda. She wanted to tell her, the words dancing on the edge of her tongue, to tell her the truth about how she and Bog started, about how she had fallen deeply and passionately in love with Griselda’s son, about how she wanted to really marry Bog, that she wanted more than anything in the world to be his wife, to be their daughter, but instead she threw herself into Griselda, wrapping her arms tight around the older woman and hugged her with everything in her. 

Griselda held Marianne, hugging her back with tears in her eyes and a bright smile. Neither of them said a thing, but they simply hugged each other until Brodie popped his head in from outside. “Hey girl, I need yer help with the table set up!” 

Griselda smiled, holding Marianne out at arm's length and sniffing as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “This is going to be a beautiful day. Now, you better finish yer breakfast, drink some coffee, though not too much, and relax. You let us take care of everything.” 

Marianne wiped tears away with the back of one hand. “Thank you Griselda.” 

Griselda laughed. “Call me Mam okay?” 

Marianne nodded. “Mam.” 

* 

Bog sat at the breakfast table with Sunny, but he hadn’t eaten a bite. His stomach was doing flip flops, he was so nervous, and tired. He and Sunny had played video games until nearly four in the morning and now it was seven and he was feeling it. And his nerves had gone into overload when he had seen his wedding clothing hanging up on the back of a door in the hall. 

Hattie came over with her cup of tea, her own plate of food and a smile on her face. Sunny was digging in to his breakfast, eating like he thought she might snatch his plate away. She grinned at her son, loved watching him digging into a good breakfast since he had a tendency to skip meals. 

She had made a large traditional Scottish breakfast to make sure that Bog was full and energized for the long day ahead. (And being his aunt she was well aware of how Bog could eat and eat and never gain an ounce). 

“Bog honey, ye need to eat.” Hattie pulled her seat out across from her son and nephew. 

Bog sighed. “Sorry, I’m just nervous.” 

Hattie smiled. “I understand sweetie, but ye need to eat.” 

Bog took a large bite of eggs which made his aunt smile. “Good,” she said as she sipped her tea. Bog took another bite before he asked. “Were ye nervous when ye married Uncle Brutus?” 

She nodded taking her own bite of eggs. “Aye I was, but I was excited too. “ She smiled, her eyes getting a far away look. “I was so nervous though, I even thought about grabbing yer uncle and running off to get married.” 

Sunny looked up from his plate with his mouth full. “Ye never told me that Mam.” 

Hattie laughed. “I didn’t?” She shrugged. “Well, it was a long time ago.” She smiled at both young men. “I was nervous, excited, happy, worried. Getting married is a big step, but it's also a step into yer future with the one person in all the world that should understand ye, be yer partner, yer friend. Yer taking a step into your future together. That’s what this is all about, not just about being in love. A wedding is a celebration of family, of yer past and yer future, it’s about beginnings, inclusion...it's about celebrating happiness.” 

Bog wrinkled his nose. “That’s not really helping auntie. I feel pressured to be happy all the time then.” 

She laughed. “What I’m trying to say is your wedding is also a party, a celebration of this moment in time, it ain’t about being happy all the time, but about being happy right now, with yer family and the woman you love Bog, and yer doing all of it with not just the woman ye love, but with yer best friend. Yer bringing Marianne into yer family and she is bringing you into hers. Just have fun, enjoy yerself and remember how much you love each other. “ 

Bog smiled and whispered. “Aye, I love her so much.” 

Hattie reached over and patted his hand. “That’s all ye need for today Bog. Just focus on that. Now, I want ye to eat everything on that plate or yer Mam is going to have my hide.” 

Bog laughed.”Thank you auntie.” 

* 

Marianne sat in a chair in the middle of the living room with nearly every member of her bridal party. Everyone was talking and laughing, a couple of the little ones were running around playing some game which required a lot of screaming, but Marianne found that she didn’t mind at all. 

Marianne had a glass of wine in her hand while her blush was being applied by Helen Humps, a short drag queen with a bright orange wig that was elegantly styled. She wore a long, tight pencil skirt of lime green with a matching tailored jacket that she had removed to show she was wearing a sleeveless silk shirt underneath. Helen’s makeup was gorgeous, if a little more flamboyant than Marianne would have ever worn; which made Marianne a little nervous about how Helen was going to do her makeup. Still, she didn’t say a word--she was simply going to wait and see. At the moment Helen was crouched in front of Marianne, had just finished with the blush, and had searched through her makeup bag until she found the eyeshadow she wanted. Helen motioned for Marianne to close her eyes before she carefully began applying color to Marianne’s lids. 

“You have the most fantastic eyes!” Helen purred. “Just gorgeous! The way they’re shaped and the color.” 

Marianne blushed. “They’re just brown.” 

Helen tsked at her. “Just brown, listen to you! They are like milk chocolate with gold leaf, honey. Just gorgeous. I bet yer man just melts when he looks into yer eyes doesn’t he?” 

Marianne giggled, blushing more. 

Helen laughed. “So, what’s yer guy like? Iain told us a little about his cousin, but it's always nice to hear about the groom from the bride.” 

Marianne bit her bottom lip before she replied. “He’s...he’s wonderful. Sweet, handsome...he has these blue eyes….” Her voice became dreamy. Helen smiled indulgently while she delicately brushed color across Marianne’s eyes, but she whispered softly. “You are so in love.” 

Marianne giggled blushing. “Yeah, I am.” 

Spicy Cheese, who was working on Dawn’s hair, gasped, wielding a curling iron like a weapon as she moved around Dawn, curling and styling Dawn’s short blonde hair. “Oh the famous King family blue eyes!” Spicy gasped dramatically while she spoke. “Girl, I was half in love with Iain just because of his eyes.” 

Marianne chuckled, opening her eyes when Helen asked, the drag queen inspecting her work when Kenneth came in. The fit young man was carrying some of the flowers that had just been delivered to hear Spicy praising Iain’s eyes. 

The young man spoke up. “Hey now, Iain’s mine.” 

Spicy laughed with a wink at Kenneth. “Oh honey, yer so cute when yer jealous.” 

Kenneth laughed, but he was blushing as well when Iain, who had been quietly sitting nearby watching the getting ready process for the bride and her party while he sipped his tea, hurriedly hopped up and rushed over to Kenneth. The shorter white haired young man jumped up on his toes and kissed Kenneth on the cheek. 

Iain giggled taking the flowers that were destined for the bridal parties hair from Kenneth, leaving the other man with the bouquets and boutonnieres. “Don’t worry honey, you own my heart.” 

Helen laughed looking between Kenneth and Iain. “Oh are we gonna get another wedding?” 

Kenneth blushed smiling at Iain. The two men gazed lovingly at one another as Kenneth whispered to Iain. “You never know what the future may bring.” 

Iain make a small happy squeak, his cheeks turning red. “Don’t you tease me Kenneth.” 

Kenneth shrugged. “Who said I was teasing?” 

Iain blinked clearly startled before he smacked Kenneth in the shoulder. “We are going to talk about this later.” 

Kenneth grinned, but his eyes held love in them. “Oh, we will.” 

Helen grinned turning her attention once more to Marianne. “Well, I better get asked to do the makeup for the wedding if you two get married...” 

Iain giggled and winked at Helen before he guided Kenneth off to help put the rest of the flowers in the kitchen. 

Marianne glanced from Iain and Kenneth to Helen. “You and Spicy are staying for the wedding right?” 

Helen looked a little startled before she glanced over at Spicy. “Well, I mean...if yer inviting us.” 

Marianne looked shocked. “Of course I am!” 

Helen smiled, as did Spicy. “Well, then, we would love to stay.” 

Spicy smiled, looking over at the entrance to the kitchen where Iain and Kenneth had walked through before returning her attention to Marianne and asked in a conspiratorial whisper. “So, was it the eyes that got you?” 

Marianne had closed her eyes again while Helen worked. “That was the hook, because Bog has some gorgeous eyes. He’s tall and slender, but not skinny…” She bit her bottom lip again unaware of the way her face had transformed while speaking about Bog, the expressions on her face shifting from simple lust to an expression of love and happiness. “He has this body…” She stopped and opened one eye to see Helen, Spicy, Dawn and the rest staring at her. Thank god Bog’s mother isn’t in here, Marianne thought with embarrassment before she closed her eye. She could feel the delicate brush of the applicator against her lid as Helen worked. 

Marianne took a breath and started over again. “Bog is just so…” She sighed happily. “...I just...there is so much to him...I just...I…” She sighed. “I can’t really explain it all, but I love him with every fiber of my being and the thought of a life with him, of growing old with him fills me with happiness.” Marianne wrinkled her nose. “That’s sounds all mushy and corny.” 

Helen patted Marianne’s knee. “You don’t have to find the words honey, it's the feeling that counts. And we all need a little corny mush in our lives. Now, open yer eyes.” 

Marianne opened her eyes to see that Helen was holding a mirror up for her to see herself. Marianne gasped at her reflection. Her makeup was perfect, soft, light, her lips had only a light gloss over them and Helen had used just enough color to make her eyes pop. Two different shades of purple colored the lids of her eyes and a black eyeliner winged the corner of her eyes making her look both exotic, youthful, and a little fey-like. 

Helen grinned. “You like it?” 

Marianne blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. “I would kiss you, but I don’t want to ruin the amazing job you’ve done!” 

Helen blushed with pleasure, then hurriedly fanned Marianne’s face when she saw just a hint of tears at the corners of Marianne’s eyes. “Oh now, don’t you start to cry, you’ll make me cry!” 

Spicy grinned, giving Dawn’s hair a quick spritz with the hairspray after placing tiny purple flowers and baby’s breath in the young blonde’s hair. “There, what do you think?” 

Marianne turned to look at her sister, who looked like a fey creature too. Marianne thought Dawn was one of the prettiest people she had ever seen, personal bias aside. The flowers in Dawn’s hair looked artful, but also had the effect of making Dawn look as if she had been running through a forest. The look reminded Marianne of a pre-Raphael painting. 

Marianne was at a loss for words. “Wow.” 

Spicy held a small mirror up to Dawn who gasped. “Oh wow!! My hair looks amazing!” 

Spicy grinned, blushing. “Really? Thank you!” 

Helen stood up. “Ready to switch?” 

Marianne nodded. The two sisters stood up and switched places. 

Spicy grinned. “Let’s work some magic.” 

* 

Bog was sitting on the side of his cot as he worked to adjust the Sgian Dubh on his right leg, making sure the hilt was visible over the sock by his knee and lined up perfectly. He was fully dressed, clean shaven, his hair brushed back from his face, every part of his outfit in place, but he felt ugly and stupid. Marianne deserved so much better than him, she deserved better than a sham wedding because he had lied to his parents and had been too big of an idiot to simply come clean. She deserved so much better than him… 

Sunny punched him hard in the shoulder with his fist. 

Bog yelped, spinning around to face his cousin. “What the fook Sunny!!” 

Sunny narrowed his eyes at Bog. “I could tell ye were thinking bad things about yer self.” 

Bog opened his mouth, but stopped snapping his mouth shut for a second before he asked, “How did you know?” 

Sunny smiled and adjusted his sporran before he sat on the cot next to Bog; the entire thing groaned in protest at being so abused by two grown men. (The cot was made for young adults, after all.) “I could tell by the look on yer face. Remember, we grew up together, so I know ye Bog. Ye need to stop it. She loves you, she said yes to marrying you, so stop telling yerself that she deserves better.” 

Bog frowned reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I just…” He sighed and started again. “She does deserve better, Sunny. She could do better than me.” 

Sunny scowled at him. “Bog, she thinks you are more than good enough. She loves you, ye big eejit, so stop it.” 

Bog allowed a small smile to touch his lips while he rested his elbows on his thighs. “I just…” 

Sunny laid a hand on his cousin’s back. “Bog, stop. Just stand up and go marry her.” 

Bog smiled at Sunny while leaning over to bump his shoulder against his cousin’s. “Thanks.” 

Sunny grinned, put his arm around Bog’s shoulders, and hugged him. “Come on. Ye got the ring?” 

Bog patted his sporran as he stood. “Aye, safe and sound.” 

Sunny grinned. “Good. Now, let’s get ye hitched.” 

* 

When Bog arrived at his parents’ home with his aunt and cousin it was to find the place swarming with Kings and their families and friends. 

Bog looked stunned as he got out of the car and stood there. “I didn't think I was related to this many people.” 

Sunny had climbed out of the car with his guitar and was standing next to Bog. “Aye, they seem to come out of the woodwork anytime there’s some sort of celebration. This is even worse than Grandda Paden’s birthday last year, and someone called the coppers on us.” 

Bog glanced down at Sunny. “Yer kidding.” 

Sunny grinned. “Nope.” 

Bog shook his head. “Fook me.” 

* 

Marianne was upstairs in Bog’s old bedroom with her sister and her bridesmaids. Her hair was finished; Spicy had made soft curls out of her normal spike like hair and a crown of wild flowers and baby's breath sat on her head. It was laced with a little white heather for luck, with a trail of light purple and pink ribbons down her back. Marianne gazed out the window waiting for Bog to arrive. She hadn’t slipped her dress on yet, Griselda wanting her to wait until the last minute. So Marianne had been staking out the window waiting for Bog to arrive. When she saw him step out of the car in his full wedding kilt, she gasped as her hand rose to her mouth. 

Dawn hurried over. “Marianne, is something wrong?” She turned to look and saw Bog and Sunny standing by the car they arrived in, talking, neither man moving just yet. 

Dawn squeaked. “Oh my god! They both look so good!” 

Griselda came over. “What are ye...oh my…” Griselda blinked, tears coming to her eyes. “Oh look at my boy, so handsome.” 

Marianne blushed with a nod. “He is handsome.” 

The three of them watched as Brodie, dressed in his kilt, went rushing out of the house to grab his son by his upper arm and drag him into the house. 

Griselda smiled. “That’s our cue, let’s get you ready Marianne.” 

Marianne felt faint with excitement. She tried to remind herself that this wasn't her real wedding, but damn it felt real. She wanted to marry Bog, she was willing to throw caution to the wind and marry him… 

Griselda gently pulled her away from the window. “Let’s get ye down there to marry my son, shall we?” 

Marianne nodded, feeling a bit numb. 

* 

Bog swallowed. Right now, he wanted nothing more than a stiff drink. 

His father had dragged him outside to the back garden where the guests were starting to take their seats. The large round flower arch was set up at the end of his parents’ back garden, chairs flanked both sides of a purple aisle carpet that ran along the grass to a makeshift stage where the arch stood, looking beautiful in the morning sunlight. Minister Fergus O’Keefe--a man nearly as old as Paden King and with a shiny bald head and a thick white mustache that would have been in style in the early 20th century--waited with a smile on his face. He held a bible in one hand against his chest and was dressed all in black with his white collar. He also carried a long sash that he held on his forearm, a sash in the King colors. Bog saw flowers everywhere, not just the ones in his mother’s garden, but flowers decorated every surface, the legs and backs of the chairs, and lined the makeshift aisle making Bog think he was entering a fairy hill. Bog’s eyes widened just a little more, giving him an expression that wouldn’t have been out of place on the face of a deer staring into headlights. His thoughts raced. This is happening, his mind whispered to him, yer at yer wedding... 

Bog’s heart was beating so strong and loud that he couldn’t really hear anything except the thump of his heartbeat until his father shook him. 

Brodie pulled his son along, down the aisle. “Come on boy, go stand by the minister, yer girl will be down here any time now.” 

Brodie shook his head and continued to drag Bog along, who seemed to have lost the ability to move, and turned to yell over his shoulder at his nephew. “Sunny, get yer stool!” 

Sunny took off to go find the stool he needed to sit on to play on his guitar. 

Bog half-walked and was half-dragged by his father up to the minister in a daze. Minister O'Keefe reached out as Brodie stood Bog on the little stage, and took Bog’s hand, shaking it in a vigorous grip. “So happy to see yer finally getting married boy. Yer Mam has been praying for this day…” The old man shook his head. “Yer Mam has a one track mind. Very determined that woman.” 

Bog came around enough to chuckle at the minister. “Yeah, yeah she is.” 

“Now, I know we’re doing this all quick like because of old Paden’s little fright this week, and ye didn’t get a chance to learn yer lines, but just repeat after me and you’ll do fine. I’ve even put aside a couple of minutes fer the two of you to say something to each other before I make my pronouncement. I find you young people like to add yer own little twists to the ceremony, say yer own words. I do like that.” He smiled pleasantly at the young groom. “Now don’t be nervous son. I’ve guided many a person through their wedding, I promise to get ye to the end alive.” 

Bog felt sick, didn’t know what to say, so he simply nodded. 

Bog’s great grandfather came over and pulled Bog into a crushing hug that was at odds with how frail the old man looked and supposedly felt. “I’m so happy to see ye getting married, boy. Glad ye found yerself a good woman to settle down with and have some little ones.” 

Bog blinked. “Little ones?” 

“Aye boy, children! You and her need to get to it, I wanna see at least one before I die.” Paden grinned reaching up to grab Bog’s’s face in his hand. “Yer a good boy, always were a good boy. I know things have been rough for ye growing up, but this is yer time now. Be happy, be healthy, and love yer girl with everything ye have.” 

Bog smiled down at his great grandfather and whispered. “I will--I promise.” 

Paden gave Bog’s cheek a good, yet loving smack. “Now, make the King family proud and don’t go passing out before ye said yer vows.” 

Bog blinked. He hadn't thought about passing out, but now it was all he could think and worry about. 

Behind Bog, the groomsmen lined up. Sunny brought a stool up that he sat on in the best man position, but a little back so he could be seen and not too far front so that he wasn’t disturbing the ceremony. He hopped onto the stool and quickly checked the tuning on his guitar. Behind Sunny, Theo held a fiddle and stepped up beside Sunny giving his cousins a grin and began to tune the fiddle. 

Brodie had rushed into the house to confer with his wife before he came racing back outside again, raised a finger in the air, and circled it vigorously. Sunny looked up, glanced at his cousin Theo who gave him a smile and a nod. Sunny glanced down the aisle at Brodie and nodded at his uncle. Brodie took off inside once more as Sunny, along with Theo, began to play. The music was slow and carried a sweet melody. The two men played for a little bit, filling the garden with music before Sunny began to sing, his voice soft and filled with emotion. 

(Inside the house Dawn gasped and rushed to look out the back window to see Sunny. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed as she watched him play and sing). 

The back door to the house opened and out came a couple of the little ones, two little girls in purple and white dresses and a little boy in his kilt, all were between the ages of three and five, all of them spreading flowers petals in their wake from little baskets they carried, causing a ripple of laughter though all gathered there, as the little ones threw more petals at each other than down on the aisle. 

Sunny launched himself into the song, closing his eyes as he sang before he opened them again to glance up as the first of the bridesmaids appeared at the end of the makeshift aisle. 

“Where Lagan streams sing lullabies 

There blows a lily fair. 

The twilight gleam is in her eye, 

* 

Sunny looked up from his playing, his voice soft as he put every ounce of himself into the words, his brown eyes catching of Dawn as she stepped out behind the rest of the bridesmaids. He nearly stumbled, forgetting the words of the song when he saw her, the late morning light dancing off her golden blonde hair. With the flowers in her hair and the way her dress hugged and glided over her figure, she looked like an angel, a fairy queen walking down the aisle holding a small bouquet of flowers in her hand, her eyes only on him. 

Sunny swallowed, but continued to sing. 

* 

“The night is on her hair. 

And like a lovesick lenashee 

She hath my heart in thrall. 

No life have I, no liberty, 

For love is Lord of all. 

* 

Bog stared down the aisle, fighting the urge to fidget. He didn’t see anyone else as he waited for Marianne. His knees felt weak and his heart raced, his hands becoming sweaty. When she appeared, stepping out into the garden, he was certain his heart stopped. 

He had never seen a more beautiful sight than Marianne. His father stood on one side of her, his mother on Marianne’s other, walking her down the aisle, both of them lightly holding one of her arms as she held her flowers with both hands. Bog couldn’t breathe and his eyes filled with tears when he saw her, like the lenashee of the song. Bog knew Marianne had his heart in thrall, that she had him ensnared. He never wanted to let her go, never wanted to know what life would be like without her in it. He swallowed, his right hand coming up to rest over his heart as he watched her. He blinked, tried to refrain from crying, but a single tear still escaped one eye his as he mouthed silently to her. “I love you.” 

* 

“And often when the beetles horn 

Has lulled the eve to sleep, 

I'll steal into her sheiling lorn 

And through the doorway creep. 

There on the cricket's singing stone, 

She makes the bogwood fire 

And sings in sweet and undertone, 

The song of hearts desire. 

* 

When Marianne’s eyes met Bog’s she couldn’t look away. His eyes were blue like the sky overhead, beautiful, blue and endless. She gripped her bouquet tighter, the trail of baby’s breath from her flower bouquet shook slightly; her hands held it so tightly that her knuckles were white. A tremor of nerves ran down her arms and her heart pounded so fast and loud she was surprised no one could hear it over the music. Her gaze was locked on Bog, and suddenly, her nerves calmed...she was where she was meant to be, walking down an aisle toward the man she loved. When Bog mouthed silently at her. “I love you,” the tears that Marianne had been holding back simply spilled over. 

As they arrived at the little stage, both Brodie and Griselda handed Marianne up to Bog who took her hand, and didn’t let go. 

Minister O’Keefe smiled brightly. “Hello my dear, you must be the bride.” 

Everyone laughed as Marianne blushed brightly. “Yes, I’m Marianne Summerfield.” 

O’Keefe nodded and continued to smile. “And yer sure you want to marry this King boy?” 

Marianne giggled, her cheeks burning. “Yes, yes I do.” 

Bog was blushing as well, glancing sideways at Marianne who smiled back at him. 

The minister smiled. “Yer sure now? These King men can be a handful.” 

Marianne giggled and nodded with vigor. “Yes, yes I want Bog King.” 

This declaration was greeted with cheers and laughter. Marianne and Bog blushed while looking at each other, squeezing each others hands. 

Minister O’Keefe nodded. “Well I ain’t going to ask you Bog because I can tell by the way ye keep staring at her that yer in love with the girl. Ain’t you got something to give her?” This was greeted by more laughter and Bog blushing as he replied. “Aye, I love her with all my heart.” Bog released her hand to open the sporran and pulled out, not the rings, but a brooch, made of silver, engraved with two intertwined hearts and topped with a crown. 

Bog swallowed and reached to take Marianne’s hand. He laid the brooch in her palm and said softly. “It’s called a Luckenbooth...it’s...a symbol of my love, and ah...I’ll explain it a little more later, but...” Bog looked up into her eyes as he wrapped her fingers around the brooch. “...It belonged to my great grandmother.” He glanced over to Paden who was smiling with tears in his old eyes. 

Marianne blushed smiling back at Bog. “Thank you.” 

The minister nodded. “Now…” He projected his voice even though the back garden wasn’t that large. “This is all a bit unusual since this wedding was thrown together in less than a week and on old Paden’s birthday, the old fooker who’ll never die and outlive us all.” 

Paden grinned. “Yer fookin right I will!” 

Everyone laughed and cheered. 

O’Keefe smiled, turning his attention back to Bog and Marianne. “Well a King can do whatever they put their minds to--just look at this wedding.” This was greeted with more cheers before 

O’Keefe continued. “Now, do you, Bog Ewan King take…what’s yer full name lassie?” 

“Marianne Lily Summerfield,” Marianne answered. 

The minister nodded. “Marianne Lily Summerfield, as yer wife?” 

Bog nodded. “I do.” 

The minister nodded. “And do you, Marianne Lily Summerfield take Bog Ewan King as yer husband?” 

“I do,” Marianne said softly. 

O’Keefe smiled. “All right, well before I be binding you two together, do ye want to say a few words to one another?” 

Marianne swallowed and felt her eyes widen. She hadn’t prepared anything! 

Bog took a deep breath. He hadn’t prepared anything either, but he was going to do the best he could because he wanted to tell Marianne how much he loved her. 

Bog swallowed and took her hand that held the brooch. “I know this was all really sudden, and that many couples wait years to get married, but...there are no guarantees in this life. Everything is a risk, but I’m willing to risk everything for a chance to be with you Marianne.” He looked into her eyes. “I love you. I’m willing to risk it all for a chance to love you for the rest of my life.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles while he looked into her eyes and whispered. “And now a soft kiss-Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.” Bog gave her a shy smile with a blush on his cheeks. “That’s not me, but John Keats.” 

Marianne blinked back her tears, smiling at him. “Bog...when...when we started this...I didn’t...I didn’t realize how much I was going to fall for you. I just…” She bit her bottom lip gazing down at his hand holding hers. “I’m willing to walk down this road with you Bog. I want to walk this path. I’m willing to take the risk because I know the prize is worth it, a life with you.” She stepped closer to him. “I love you.” 

Bog reached out and cupped her face in his hands gazing down at her with a smile. He began to lean down, while Marianne rose on her toes to meet him when the minister cleared his throat. 

“Not yet you two.” 

The attendees laughed while both Marianne and Bog turned red. Minister O’Keefe grinned before he dropped his smile in an attempt to look solemn. 

The minister smiled at the couple. “This is what love is, love moves you toward one another. Love wants what’s best for one another, lays down everything, gives everything for another.” 

He looked between Bog and Marianne and grinned to see that they were both simply staring at each other. 

“Do ye have the ring?” he asked. 

Bog frowned then cringe. “The ring!!” 

Their family laughed as he quickly opened his sporran and pulled out the ring for Marianne while Dawn stepped forward to give Marianne her ring for Bog. 

“Now Marianne, put the ring on his finger and repeat after me….” Minister O’Keefe began with Marianne repeating behind him. 

“I, Marianne Lily Summerfield, take you, Bog Ewan King, to be my husband. In the presence of God and before these witnesses I promise to be a loving, faithful, and loyal wife to you, for as long as we both shall live.” 

She slid the ring on his finger. 

“All right Bog--ready?” O’Keefe grinned. 

Bog nodded. “Aye.” 

“All right lad repeat after me. Tha mise Bog Ewan King, a-nis ‘gad ghabhail-sa Marianne Lily Summerfield, gu bhith ‘nam chéile phòsda. Ann am fianais Dhé ‘s na tha seo de fhianaisean tha mise a’ gealltainn a bhith ‘nam fhear pòsda dìleas gràdhach agus tairis dhuitsa, cho fad’s a bhios an dìthis againn beò.” 

Bog repeated the same words that Marianne had spoken, except in Gaelic which made Marianne, thankful that the minister didn’t try to make her repeat the words in Gaelic. Right now she wanted to both turn into a puddle of goo and jump Bog’s bones listening to him speak, his accent sending little shivers down her spine, but when he slid the ring on her finger all she wanted to do was kiss him. 

O’Keefe pulled the tartan sash that hung on his forearm, in the King colors and wrapped it around Bog and Marianne’s joined hand, tying them together. 

O’Keefe grinned. “It gives me great honor to present to you all, Mr. and Mrs. Bog King…” He whispered loudly. “Now you two can kiss.” 

Bog swept Marianne up into his arms and kissed her in a way that made her forget how to breathe, that reduced her world to this kiss with him and nothing else--nothing existed outside of this perfect moment. 

* 

Paden stood up before Sunny or Theo could play another note and pulled his bagpipes out from under his chair. (Griselda looked shocked and elbowed Brodie hard in his side. Bog’s father shrugged, but he was smiling). Paden grinned happily as he stood and began to play “Scotland the Brave” as Bog and Marianne turned toward their audience. Bog grinned ear to ear, sharing a glance with Marianne then another shared look with his great grandfather who was looking cheekily at them both as he winked. 

That was the moment it began to rain, a gentle rain, but rain nonetheless. 

Bog stepped down,loosening the sash around her hands, turning to help Marianne down as the gentle spring rain fell on them before they both began to walk down their little makeshift aisle toward the house. Minister O’Keefe followed behind them (the paperwork at the ready for them to sign inside), followed by Brodie and Griselda, then Paden and last the bridal party. Griselda and Brodie entered the house behind the minister while Paden stopped just outside the door leaving Bog, Marianne and the minister to do the paperwork before the reception began. Paden continued to play outside while the guests and bridal party quickly started to rearrange the outside reception to make sure everyone was under the tent as the rain came down a little harder. Paden grinned, taking a break from his piping to look up with a smile. “Mm...rain on a wedding day means fertility.” He chuckled. “Maybe I’ll get to meet my great, great grandchild after all.” 

* 

Inside Bog and Marianne signed the marriage license, plus all the forms that Marianne needed to sign since she was American, with Brodie and Griselda as witnesses. After all the forms were signed, Minister O’Keefe picked up the paperwork. 

“Well now, I’ll just drop these off on my way home and you should all be set to go.” He winked at them. “And don’t worry about the irregularities, it’ll all be taken care of in no time at all. Helps to have mates in the registry office.” O’Keefe smiled, slipping the paperwork inside of jacket. 

Bog glanced at Marianne. “Ah, we can take that sir. You don’t have to…” 

“Nonsense young man. It’s my pleasure. Now, don’t we have some celebrating to do?” He grinned at Bog and Marianne. “Come along you two, don't look so worried. I don’t know about you young people, but I could use a drink.” 

Griselda rushed over and threw her arms around both Bog and Marianne, pulling them close. She was crying as she hugged her son and new daughter. 

“Oh, you both look so beautiful!! That was just a beautiful ceremony even if we didn't get to have the oathing stone or the pinning of the tartan!!” Griselda broke down into sobs, hugging her son before grabbing Marianne and hugging her tightly. 

Brodie came over and wrapped his arms around his son, pulling Bog down into a tight hug. “I’m so glad to see you happy boy, to see you with a good woman.” He stepped back and cupped Bog’s face in his hands. “I hope you and Marianne are as happy as yer Mam and I have been all these years. I want nothing but the best for the two of you.” 

Bog hugged his father looking at Marianne who was hugging a sobbing Griselda. The guilt that had temporarily vanished during the ceremony now returned in full force. He was lying to his Mam, his Da, his entire family. It didn’t matter that he really wanted to marry Marianne, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to ask her, or talk to her about it, about their future together. He was guilty of being a big, fat liar. He didn’t deserve this, or Marianne… 

Bog opened his mouth to tell his parents everything when the back door was thrown open and Sunny, grinning ear to ear, stuck his head inside. 

“Come on you two! Or the party’s gonna start without ya!” 

Griselda quickly wiped away her tears. “All right you two just hold on a moment and I’ll make sure the way is clear for ye both to walk to yer table.” She glanced outside to see that the sprinkling was coming down a little harder. “Do ye want an umbrella dear?” 

Marianne linked her arm through Bog’s. “No it’s fine.” She was all smiles as she gazed into Bog’s worried blue eyes. “It’ll be fine.” She made the statement not just for Griselda, but for Bog. 

“All right then, come on…” Griselda grabbed Brodie and the minister. “I’ll have Dawn knock on the door when ye can come out for yer big entrance.” Griselda disappeared out the back door dragging the two men with her. 

Bog groaned the moment the door closed. “God, I cannae believe I didn’t get the fookin papers.” 

Marianne gazed at Bog, giving his arm a squeeze where her hand rested against his biceps. “Would it be so bad if you didn’t get them?” 

Bog looked down at Marianne, his gaze confused. “What are ye sa…” 

But that was the moment the knock on the door came. 

Marianne giggled taking a quick sniff of her bouquet, her smile breathtaking as she said. “Come on--that’s our cue!” 

Bog swallowed and reached out to open the back door. 

* 

The door to the back garden was thrown open by Bog. The sound of Paden’s bagpipes greeted them once more, accompanied by Sunny’s guitar and Theo’s fiddle as the trio played “The Skye Boat song.” 

Bog glanced down at Marianne who was all smiles before they walked out, once more into the back garden, the rain falling lightly down on them. The back garden had been transformed from a ceremony space to a reception space with amazing results. The purple aisle runner had been replaced with a portable dance floor big enough for several couples to dance on. The table and chairs were arranged around the dance floor and the the stage that Bog and Marianne had stood on to become husband and wife had been turned into the stage for the bridal table which was laid out with purple and white lace, flowers, and the wedding cake at the right hand corner. There were candles, fairy lights and lanterns everywhere, providing a soft, cheerful light as the day, that had started out so bright and sunny, quickly turned grey and cloudy. 

All faces were turned to watch Bog and Marianne step out of the house as Mr. and Mrs. King. 

Bog swallowed, glancing at Marianne who simply gave him an encouraging and bright smile. He took a deep breath and walked out with her on his arm. They moved toward the dance floor that they had to cross to get to the table. The moment their feet were on the dance floor, Griselda called out. “Start the Ceilidh!! 

Marianne glanced at Bog looking startled. “The what?” 

He grinned at her, showing off his crooked teeth in a smile that reached his blue eyes and made her feel weak in the knees. “Just follow along with me.” 

He hooked his arm through hers while Sunny and Theo began to play a bouncy tune. Bog grinned at Marianne and began to swung her around, his kilt flying as he spun her in a circle. Marianne laughed holding her bouquet up squealing with delight as she grabbed up her dress with the same hand to bounce along with him. She didn’t have any idea what she was doing but happiness and the music made it easy for her to figure out some basic steps. It wasn’t what she thought their first dance would be like but it was somehow more appropriate. 

The music played while the two of them swung around, turning to dance in a circle in the other direction. Marianne laughed as Bog practically skipped, laughing while Marianne beamed at him, her own laughter mixing with his while rain drummed happily on the roof of the tent. After a few more minutes of everyone watching the two of them basically just spinning each other around like mad, more of the guest flooded the tiny dance floor. The dance became a little more complicated as more people joined them. The dance turned into something that reminded Marianne of a square dance as she was flung around, changing partners, kicking her feet and laughing with joy. 

Brodie became her partner for a few seconds, the older man smiling as he said. “Never seen my boy as happy as he is with you. Thank ye.” 

Marianne blushed as she was spun around. “I love him with all my heart. He makes me happy.” 

Brodie laughed. “Good, just make sure you don’t let him have his way all the time.” 

Marianne laughed. “I won’t, promise.” 

Bog ended up dancing with Dawn at one point. He laughed spinning her around with him. Dawn smiled happily kicking her feet with the music. “So, you gonna stay married?” Dawn asked quiet enough that only Bog could hear. She looked at him with wide hopeful eyes. 

A small frown tugged at the corners of his lips. “I don’t...I don’t know...I guess we’ll talk about it after we get the papers from Minister O’Keefe.” 

Dawn nodded as Bog turned her around so that she could catch the hand of his uncle Brutus, the three of them walking up and raising their hands up to meet Marianne, Brodie, and Bog’s grandfather Alfie. All six rushed forward a step, laughing as they raised their arms. Next they quickly linked hands to form a big circle and danced around as the music played. They spun in one direction, then the next before breaking the circle to swing their partners by their hooked arms, trading partners after a full swing until Bog was back with Marianne. 

That was when Paden yelled out. “Get in a line ye rowdy cunts!” 

Marianne snorted on her laugh as Bog pulled her over, placing her in front of him at the head of a line that was forming, two lines, couples facing one another. They began clapping to the music, flowing closer and back from their partner who faced them across the line, clapping their hands to the music as Paden yelled out orders with a colorful amount of cursing. 

Marianne smiled at Bog, dancing closer, clapping her hands while Bog smiled back at her, his eyes only for her. They hooked their arms and swung in a circle as Paden called out, swinging one way and then the other before folding their arms over their chests and dancing in a circle around each other. A few people stumbled or messed up in some fashion which turned into good natured ribbing from the audience of people who were not currently dancing. 

Paden yelled out. “All right, down the line!!!” 

Marianne laughed as Bog grabbed her hands and they danced down the line, skipping down as everyone clapped. 

After that Marianne lost track of the dance. There was a lot of her being swung around again, then a little bit of kicking her heels up, though watching Bog--who was very good at the dance--throwing his arms up and kicking his legs up in a hop to the music was pleasingly distracting until finally Paden yelled. 

“All right ye fookers, that’s enough. I need a fookin drink!” 

Everyone burst into laughter, Bog and Marianne finally making it to the bridal table to collapse in their chairs. 

Once everyone was seated Brodie stood up waiting for everyone to settle down while a couple of cousins started to make their way through the tent filling glasses with wine, champagne, or grabbing ale, guiness, or something stronger still for those who wanted it. 

Brodie smiled. “Now we’ll be serving some food in a bit. I wanna thank each and every one of ye who contributed to bringing this day together on such short notice for my son and his wife.” 

This was greeted by cheers and claps with someone yelling out. 

“We’re all happy to see him finally hitched!” 

There was some more laughter until Brodie motioned for everyone to be quiet. “As I was saying, thanks to everyone for bringing some food for our celebration today of both Bog and Marianne’s wedding and my grandda’s birthday. I know all of you who cooked worked yer arses off and we all appricate it.” 

There was more applause. 

Brodie grinned. “I wanted to say something about my son and his new wife. When Bog told us he was engaged…” 

* 

While his father was speaking Bog’s guilt decided now was the moment to reassert itself in full force. His family had come together to create this wedding. They loved him enough that everyone had bent over backwards for a wedding, to make sure that he and Marianne had a beautiful wedding on such short notice. He bit his lip as a flash of pain washed over him. How dare he lie to them?! He closed his eyes. He wanted to talk to Marianne, wanted to tell his parents the truth. He wanted so many things to be different. Marianne deserved better than him, than his lying about their relationship even though he loved her with all his heart, and his family deserved better than this...but this lie had gotten so out of hand and he had let it. He had let it go and go until... 

Bog looked up just in time to see the minister slip through the back door into the house...was he leaving? With the paperwork? All the blood drained from Bog’s face. What had he done?! To Marianne? To his family? 

Bog stood up. 

Brodie, who had been in the middle of saying something about the importance of family and how having Marianne as part of their family, along with her sister… 

“Bog? Ye want to say something?” Brodie asked in confusion as he watched his son turn white as a sheet. 

Marianne reached up and touched Bog’s arm. “Bog? You okay?” 

Bog looked out at his family, the people who had come together and made this wedding possible, who loved him, accepted him the way he was…who bent over backwards to give him a beautiful wedding to the woman he loved. 

He looked down at Marianne, the woman he was in love with, the woman he wanted to marry, he knew that now without a shred of doubt. If he could be lucky enough to have her say yes for real instead of to help him maintain a lie… 

He had fooked everything up because he had been too much of a coward… 

Bog cleared his throat. “I do have something to say, something I should have said ages ago, but I’ve been too much of a numpty to just come out and say the truth.” 

Bog looked at everyone. His blue eyes scanned over his loved ones, his family slowly before he turned to look at the people sitting at the wedding table with him; his father, his mother, Marianne, Dawn...his grandparents, his great grandfather...Bog’s lips trembled, but he had to do this. 

Marianne frowned. “Bog you don’t…” 

Bog sighed, closed his eyes, then opened them. “I lied, I lied to all of you. Marianne isn’t my fiancee...my wife. I asked her to pretend that she was so I wouldn’t have to tell my Mam that I lied to her…that no one wanted me.” He blinked back tears as his heart began to twist in his chest. “I paid for her and her sister to come here with me and lie to all of you so I would not disappoint my Mam...or my family...none of you. I agreed to the wedding for grandda Paden, I didn’t want to see him upset. Then after the heart attack…” He squeezed his eyes shut, tears rolling down his cheeks as he said in a choked voice. 

“This...all of this is a lie.” 

All was silent except for the light patter of rain.


	11. Coming Home

Marianne shot to her feet, standing up next to Bog and said--almost shouting it--her attention on Bog. “It’s not a lie!” 

Bog turned to look at her, his expression clearly confused, but she could see the hurt in his eyes, that no matter what they had shared this week, no matter their confessions of love, he still doubted his worth to her, doubted that she wanted to be with him, forever. 

“B-but…” Bog stammered. 

Marianne smiled at him, she touched his arm trying to reassure him before she turned her attention toward the crowd, making eye contact with his family seated at the table on either side of them. Her eyes scanned the crowd of people who had all come together to give them a beautiful wedding; the people who loved Bog and, by extension, had shown nothing but love and acceptance of her. She wanted to make sure that everyone was focused on her, that when she spoke, they all understood the truth of her words, because these were going to be the most important words she had ever spoken. “It started out exactly how Bog said. He asked me to pretend to be his fiancee and I agreed.” 

This started a murmur through the gathered crowd. 

Bog started to open his mouth, but Marianne reached over to lay her hand against his chest and quiet him as she continued. “But, that was before I got to know him, really got to know him. over these last few days I can say, without a shred of doubt, that I am in love with him.” Marianne turned to face Bog. “I love you. I think I loved you the moment you came and asked me to pretend to be with you. The look on your face, the sincerity in your eyes, the fact that you didn’t want to hurt your family, I loved those qualities in you.” She turned to fully face Bog while continuing to pitch her voice for the gathered crowd to hear. “It isn’t that no one wanted you Bog. It’s that you simply hadn't found me yet.” Marianne reached up and cupped his face between her hands. 

“Because I want you Bog. I love you. I love you from the bottom of my heart and if you would have me…” 

Marianne dropped down to one knee. It was a little awkward, not only because she was wearing her wedding dress, but because she was so much shorter than the Scotsman. Dropping down on one knee now made her almost invisible to a few people in the back, but she was speaking to Bog and looked up at him, taking both his hands in her hands. She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes and expression, but also with love. She knew she wasn’t good with words, she also knew that words couldn’t possibly translate her feelings for this man she had met by happenstance, met by the fact he had told a little lie to his mother and chance sightings in the office building they worked in. 

“Bog…” She swallowed--she was trying not to cry, but damn it, tears started to roll down her cheeks. “Bog, I never thought I would be so lucky as to meet someone like you. Someone who is funny, grumpy, who can sound so damn sexy when he curses…” 

A ripple of laughter rolled like a wave through the gathered party. 

Marianne smiled blinking back her tears as she spoke. “You make me happy Bog. The time I’ve spent with you showed me this beautiful man who life had kicked around, but who had remained a beautiful, loving person and you...you gifted me with that love, that friendship. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for everything you’ve given me. You didn’t just bring me to Scotland to play pretend, you made me part of your family, who welcomed me with open arms...you made me fall in love with you without trying, by just being who you are.” She took a breath, her chin trembling. “I love you. It’s as simple as that. I don’t want to go back home and have this all disappear. I’m being selfish, but I want to stay your wife. I want to make a life with you. I don’t want to lose this, Bog.” She gazed up at him, her fingers holding tight to his. “Bog Ewan King, will you take me as your real wife, your real fiancee, real friend and real lover? Will you be my husband?” Marianne gazed up at him hopefully, her eyes bright and beautiful with tears glistening in them. Her hands trembled where her fingers held Bog’s hands. She whispered, her voice choked. “No more fibs. I want a life with you. Please, marry me.” 

Dawn gasped loudly into the silence of the wedding party, covering her mouth with her hands, tears in her eyes. Sunny put his arm around her shoulders holding her tight, but he was smiling. 

Griselda looked shocked, angry, and pleased, at the same time. It was as if the three emotions were warring across her face, but none of them were able to settle down. But finally one emotion made its way to the surface of her features--happiness. 

Brodie held his wife’s hand and just smiled while a frown had fallen over Paden’s features. 

Bog blinked in shock at Marianne. He looked down at her kneeling before him, his heart hammering. This wasn’t what he had been expecting. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but Marianne dropping down to her knees to propose to him was not even on the list of the unexpected. 

Everyone remained quiet as Bog stared down at his bride, who was down on one knee gazing up at him with those deep, honey brown eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks, her gaze hopeful. 

“Marianne you don’t have to do this in front of my family. It’s fine, I….” He said in a quiet tone and tried to lift her to her feet, but she refused to be moved. 

Marianne frowned and bit her lip as her entire body trembled. What if she had been wrong? What if he didn’t… 

Bog dropped down on his knees in front of her pulling her hands up against his chest. Some of the guests craned their necks to keep a close watch on the couple. “Marianne, I…” He swallowed. Shite, he thought, I’m going to fookin cry. “I...I...Aww fook, yes. God, yes Marianne. I’ll be yer husband. I love you. Yer everything I have ever hoped for, you’ve become my friend, my lover, my everything. I…” He sniffed as the damn tears sliding down his cheeks dripped off his sharp chin. He closed his eyes, tears fell from his lashes as he whispered. “I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you. I want to grow old with you. I love you Marianne, I love you.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. Marianne gazed back into his blue eyes, blue as the sky, blue as spring. Blue would always been the the color of love, she realized as Bog said softly. “Tha gaol agam ort Marianne.” Bog smiled. “I love you Marianne.” 

Marianne’s smile made Bog’s heart sing as she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. Bog wrapped his arms around, her pulling her close, kissing her in return, the crowd, his family falling away until all that existed was him, Marianne and their kiss. He stood slowly, pulling his bride with him as he stood. Marianne wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not once breaking their kiss. Bog held onto her, lifted Marianne off her feet, kissed her with his desire burning throughout his body, without a care for those watching them. 

The small crowd of family erupted into cheers. 

Brodie grinned and whispered to his wife. “Thig crìoch air an t-saoghal, ach mairidh gaol is ceòl.” 

* 

Helen turned to look at her friend Spicy, leaning over to glance at Iain and Kenneth before she whispered. “I’m confused.” 

Spicy laughed. “Oh honey, they just realized they really are in love.” 

Helen frowned. “Didn’t they just get married?” 

Spicy patted her friend’s back with a smile. “Don’t worry honey. I’ll explain it later.” 

* 

Bog reluctantly sat Marianne down on her feet and gazed at her with a smile dancing on his lips. “Yer sure about this?” 

Marianne nodded with a broad smile. “I’m sure.” 

He laughed and pulled her again into his arms, kissing her tenderly when there was the sudden hard clank of metal against glass. 

Everyone quieted. 

Bog and Marianne turned to see that Paden had risen to his feet. The old man looked annoyed, as if he really didn’t want to do what he was about to do, but knew he needed to do it anyway. 

Paden took a breath, looking around at everyone gathered as silence fell on the wedding party, once more waiting in anticipation of what the King family patriarch was about to say. 

“Well, I figure since we’re all fooking confessing like this is some kind of fooked up Catholic confessional, then I better come fooking clean too.” Paden sighed, running his hands down the sides of his kilt before he turned his full attention on Bog and Marianne. 

He took another breath before he spoke letting it out slowly. “I lied too.” 

The crowded murmured their confusion. Bog and Marianne exchanged a look while Brodie glanced over at his brothers, and his father, lastly looking to his wife who frowned, narrowing her eyes at the old man. 

Paden shrugged “I fooking lied about the heart attack all right? I didn’t have one--I faked it. I wanted to try and get ye both fooking married while you were here. So I faked it…” He grumbled and flopped down in his seat. 

Brodie stood. “What are ye talking about?” 

Alfie stood too. “How the fook did ye lie about it?!! The fookin doctor even…” 

Paden waved a hand at his son and grandson. “Fook the doctor. He’s old enough to be one of my fookin great grandchildren. I knew his Da and his Da’s Da! I told him to go along with it or I’d...well ye don’t need to know that I said, but it was easy to get the doctor to play along.” He made a face. “Anyway, I’m sorry I lied, but…” He shrugged. “Well, I ain’t really all that sorry. But I figured I should confess since we’re all doing some confessing and all.” 

Bog blinked. “So yer fine?” 

Paden shrugged. “Aye, just auld and I don’t like waiting around for ye young ones to get yer heads out of yer arses and do what ya should have been doing anyway.” He folded his arms over his chest looking stubborn and not the least bit sorry. 

Marianne burst out laughing, which started a wave of laughter. 

Paden glanced around and slowly grinned, but he muttered. “I was fookin right too. Ye both needed to get married.” He smiled in complete confidence that he, as always, had been right. 

* 

That night Bog carried Marianne up the stairs to his bedroom. The party was still in full swing in the backyard, though some of it had spilled into his parents’ livingroom and kitchen. A few family members were drunk, some asleep on the sofa or in chairs or telling stories in the kitchen. It was well into the morning, but no one seemed inclined to go home, though no one seemed to notice when Bog and Marianne left their party and headed upstairs. 

Bog eased the door to his room open with his hip, carrying Marianne bridal style into the bedroom. Her arms were around his shoulders, her eyes never leaving his face, though she giggled when he winked at her. 

He pushed the door closed with his foot before he walked them over to the bed and turned to slowly sit down, still cradling his new wife against him. 

“I love you,” he whispered, his smile soft, his eyes sparkled. 

Marianne stroked her fingers through his hair, studying his face with a soft, gentle smile. Her fingers traced his sharp cheekbones, danced along his long, sharp nose, down to his sensual lips and over his sharp chin. “I love you Bog King, my husband.” 

He grinned. “Marianne Summerfield-King, my wife.” 

Marianne cringed. “That is a mouthful, I think Marianne King will do.” 

Bog laughed. “Maybe Bog Summerfield?” 

She shook her head. “Nope, it has to be King. Mr. and Mrs. King.” She looked so happy as she said softly. “I’m now part of the King family. I like that.” 

He pulled her close and kissed her, a deep kiss that made her tremble and her belly fill with butterflies. Bog cradled her close, his mouth moving over hers in a slow, tantalizing caress, his tongue sliding against hers. He tasted of ale and cake, his tongue and lips warm and soft. Marianne’s kiss sent a ripple of warmth through him, filled his heart and his body. He had never known real happiness, he thought, until his time with her, until now. He pulled back again, brushing his nose against hers. His eyes locked with hers, his expression soft and loving. “Are you sure about this?” 

She smiled and brushed the tip of her nose against his nose. “You mean being your wife? Yes. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. Are you sure?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you in it Marianne.” 

They kissed again, laying back on the bed as they did. Bog rolled slowly on top of her as their kissing grew more heated. He slid his hand down, brushing the back of his fingers along her side, feeling the smooth, soft material of her dress. He pulled back again, leaning on his elbow, but only pulled back enough to speak. “Are ye sure ye want to have our wedding night here? In my old bedroom?” 

Marianne giggled, her voice soft, warm and inviting. “It’s perfect Bog, just perfect. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

He grinned at her, showing off his crooked teeth. “Yer a great and wonderful woman, Marianne. I love you.” 

Marianne giggled. “Good, because I love you. Now, show me how to get this kilt off of you.” 

Bog laughed. 

* 

They arrived at the airport early in the morning a day later. They had only been able to spend one more day with Bog’s family before it was time to leave, as both of them had businesses to get back to, decisions to be made about living arrangements, and a hundred other little details to take care of, but neither Bog nor Marianne were worried. They were both excited about starting their lives anew, together. 

Only a small group was able to come to the airport; Bog’s parents along with Sunny and Dawn. They stood in the waiting area near where Bog and Marianne would be boarding their flight. Griselda, her eyes red with tears, grabbed them both, hugging Bog and Marianne with enough strength that Marianne winced, glancing over his mother’s head to smile at Bog as Griselda’s muffled voice said sadly. 

“I’m going to miss ye both so much. Ye make sure you come visit soon.” 

Griselda stepped back wiping her tears with the heels of her hands before she smacked Bog and pointed her finger at him “And don’t ye ever lie to me again!” 

Bog chuckled, taking the smack with a firm nod and aplomb. “I promise Mam--never again.” 

She nodded her head. “See that ye don’t.” 

She turned her attention to Marianne, took the young woman by the shoulders. “I’ll thank the lord every day that Bog was an eejit because that lie brought you to him.” 

Marianne giggled, pulling Griselda into another hug. “Me too.” 

Griselda closed her eyes, hugging Marianne tight enough to make her grunt. “Promise me you'll both be happy,” she said in a quiet tone. “Promise me ye’ll love each other for all yer days.” 

Marianne smiled. “We will, I promise.” 

Brodie stepped up and hugged his son. “We’ll miss ye both. But mind you, both of ye come back soon.” 

“I promise Da. We’ll come back soon enough.” Bog hugged his father tight. 

Brodie swallowed, getting choked up as he stepped back from his son. “It was nice having you home boy.” He nodded. “Real nice.” 

Bog sniffed trying not to cry as he said, “It was nice to be home Da.” 

Marianne finished hugging Griselda and turned her attention to her sister who was standing nearby with Sunny. Marianne opened her arms and Dawn rushed into her sister’s embrace. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Marianne whispered against her sister’s ear. 

Dawn smiled. “I’m going to miss you too.” 

Marianne stepped back and cupped her sister’s face in her hands, smiling as she searched her eyes, asking a question she already knew the answer to. “You love him?” 

Dawn nodded blinking back tears. “As much as you love Bog.” 

Marianne’s smile widened, her own tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Best trip ever?” 

“Best trip ever.” Dawn replied with a grin. 

Sunny walked over and hugged Bog. “I’m gonna miss you cuz.” 

Bog gave his cousin a tight squeeze. “You take care of my sister-in-law.” 

Sunny grinned as he stepped back. “I will.” 

The sisters hugged again, but that was when they all heard the call for their flight. 

Griselda took a deep breath. “All right, call as soon as you land.” 

Bog nodded as he gathered their carry-ons. “Aye, will do Mam.” 

His mother sniffed. “All right, well...have a good flight you two. I love you both.” 

Bog gave his mother one more hug even with his hands full of luggage. “I love ye too Mam, Da.” 

Brodie cupped the side of his son’s face when he stepped back from his mother. “Love you too boy. Now, off with ye or yer both gonna miss yer flight.” 

Marianne hooked her arm around Bog’s arm, both of them waving (Bog a little awkwardly with the bags, but he managed) as they headed over to board their flight. Sunny took Dawn’s hand giving it a tight squeeze. 

“Ye still sure?” he asked. 

Dawn glanced over at him with a smile. “I am very sure. Besides, I don’t have my bags with me and I just can’t go anywhere without them.” She made a face while she grinned. 

Sunny grinned and wrapped his arm around Dawn’s waist while they watched Bog and Marianne disappear. 

* 

A year and four months later. 

Griselda kept getting up and pacing. 

Brodie sighed, watching his wife. He was sure she was going to wear a groove into the already thin carpet that lined the floor of the airport in the waiting area. He watched her silently for a good minute, walking back and forth, muttering to herself. Her red hair had a few more greys in it, but she still looked as gorgeous as the day he saw her and knew he was going to marry the pretty Irish girl. She walked past him heading to the end of the line of seats. She turned and came back, passing in front of him. 

“Girl, sit, please,” Brodie said reaching out to grab his wife’s hand as she walked past him. 

Griselda let her husband pull her onto his lap. “I can’t seem to sit still. What if…” she began, but Brodie nuzzled her neck drawing her attention and made her giggle. “Enough, they’ll be fine.” 

Brodie murmured against her throat, sending delightful shivers over her skin. 

“Stop that--we’re in public.” Griselda laughed softly. 

Brodie purred. “Sorry, cannae stop, yer too pretty.” 

Griselda giggled again, but then just as quickly frowned. “Did ye make sure that the house was ready for them?” She turned her head to look at her husband. 

Brodie sighed. “Aye, aye, it is. Da, Brutus, Birk and I were all down there last night. The house is ready for them to move in,” Brodie said with a grin. “All their furniture is set out, the cabinets are filled, the refrigerator is filled, everything is ready. Now stop worrying so much girl.” He stole a quick kiss. 

Griselda returned his kiss with a smile before she sighed and tried to relax. “I still cannae believe they flew with Marianne in that condition!” 

Brodie laughed rubbing his wife’s leg. “I’m sure she’s fine, my girl. Ye know Bog wouldn’t have let her fly if he thought it would hurt her.” 

“I know, I know…I just wish…” They both heard the call for Bog and Marianne’s flight. 

Griselda hopped off Brodie’s lap turning toward the flight arrival gate. “They’re here!” 

Brodie stood too, though a lot slower, walking up beside Griselda and taking her hand. They ended up only having to wait a few minutes before they saw them, Bog, unshaven, his hair a little bit of a mess, wearing blue jeans and a long sleeved grey henley. He looked tired, but he was grinning from ear to ear, carrying all his and Marianne’s carry-on luggage while he also struggled to push a wheelchair that contained a very pregnant Marianne. Marianne’s hair was a little longer, brushing her shoulders, her cheeks were rosy and plump, her smile was beautiful. Pregnancy agreed with her, Griselda noted. When she saw her mother- and father-in-law, Marianne waved with enthusiasm. 

Griselda let out a loud ‘whoop!’ when she saw them, rushing to them before Brodie could stop her. Brodie chuckled, watching Griselda, surprised his wife didn’t throw people out of her way to get to her daughter-in-law and her son. 

Griselda made it to them and threw herself at her son, who had to drop all the bags to catch his mother. 

Bog laughed. “Hey Mam.” 

Griselda hugged him, then immediately turned her attention to Marianne. “Oh sweetheart! How are ye doing? Look at ye! How’s my grandchild?” Griselda laughed, gently laying a hand on Marianne’s belly. “I still cannae believe yer waiting to find out the sex!” 

Marianne started to stand, but Griselda gently pressed her hand to Marianne’s shoulder to keep her seated in the wheelchair. “No, don’t you dare get up. How are ye feeling? I cannae believe the doctor let you travel. How’s the baby?” 

Marianne giggled. “Well we may have told a little lie to the airline about how far along I was…” 

Griselda frowned in disapproval, but as Bog gathered the carry-ons with his father’s help she grabbed Marianne’s wheelchair and began to push her daughter-in-law along. “So how long did you tell them?” 

Marianne grinned. “Thirty-two weeks.” 

“And how far along are ye really?” Griselda asked with a frown. 

“Thirty-seven weeks.” Marianne smiled looking upside down at Griselda as she laid her head back against the wheelchair, then she winced, her hand going to her large belly and rubbing slowly. “We wanted the baby to be born here in Scotland, so it was worth the risk I think.” Marianne hissed in pain then. “Though the flight was uncomfortable,” she added. 

Griselda stopped walking when she saw the pained expression on Marianne’s face. “Honey, what’s wrong?” 

Bog spoke up behind his mother. “She was having pains on the flight. Nothing serious and the baby was kicking just fine, but the spasms been coming closer together.” Bog looked a little concerned when his spoke, glancing at his father, who in turn glanced at Griselda. “We thought it might just be because she was uncomfortable, even with being in first class, an airplane isn’t that comfortable.” Bog frowned. 

Griselda frowned too, gazing seriously at Marianne. “How far apart?” 

Marianne bit her bottom lip as another pain hit her. “An hour ago they were fifteen minutes apart, but when the plane was coming in for a landing they started to come quicker. I haven’t been…” 

She winced again. “Okay, that one was the closest yet.” 

Griselda paled turning to her son. “I think we should take Marianne to the hospital.” 

Bog’s eyes widened. “What?” 

Griselda glanced at Brodie who nodded and hurried off, taking a few of the bags with him. “I’m going to get the car. Bog, go get yer luggage--and be quick about it!” His father shouted as he took off at a jog. 

Bog looked between his mother and his retreating father, then Marianne. “What? What’s happening?” 

Griselda turned and put a hand on her son’s chest. “Bog dear, I think Marianne may be in labor. I know ye both shouldn’t have flown over...ye should have waited…” She shook her head. “It’s early, but not too early…” 

All the color drained from Bog’s face. “But she’s only thirty-seven weeks….” 

Marianne winced again. They were trying to keep a secret, a surprise for Bog’s parents. They had decided almost from the moment they landed back in the states after their wedding that they wanted to move back to Scotland. It had taken a year for Bog to sell his business and to start up a new one in Scotland. Marianne had sold the gallery, told her father about the move, and together with Bog and his family’s help, they had purchased a home here, and shipped most of their belongings over slowly over the last few months. It was during that period that Marianne had learned they were pregnant. But she wasn’t simply pregnant, when they had found out about the baby, they had also learned that Marianne was carrying twins. She and Bog had decided two things in that moment--not to tell his parents they was expecting twins, and that the babies needed to be born in Scotland. 

Arranging everything had taken longer than expected, however. They had hoped to be in Scotland last month, but... 

Marianne hissed as another contraction hit her. “Oh...oh, this is bad.” 

Bog hadn’t moved; all the blood was gone from his face. He looked like a ghost, his blue eyes wide in fear. Griselda sighed and smacked her son hard in the arm to knock Bog out of whatever fugue state he was about to enter. 

“Go get yer bags and get to the doors. Come on!” Griselda ordered. 

* 

The drive to the hospital was a blur for Marianne. 

She spent her time focused on her breathing and trying not to let slip about the fact that she and Bog were about to have twins. Bog held her with her back against his chest, his arms lovingly around her, stroking her arms, his voice a soothing balm as he sang a lullaby to her in a low voice by her ear. Marianne closed her eyes, listening to her husband sing while she rubbed her hands over her distended abdomen. 

“Can ye no hush your weepin' 

all the wee lambs are sleepin' 

Birdies are nestlin' nestlin' together 

Dream Angus is hirplin' oer the heather 

Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell 

Angus is here wi' dreams to sell…” 

* 

Griselda smiled at her son and daughter-in-law, seeing them wrapped so close together, Marianne leaning against Bog while he did his best to soothe her made her heartache with happiness. She knew the song that Bog was singing, a lullaby she used to sing to him when he was a wee babe. She pressed her lips together, the song bringing tears, memories of her little boy, now about to be a father himself. 

Griselda looked from Marianne to her husband. “How much longer?” 

Brodie didn’t look at his wife as he focused on the road. “Fifteen minutes tops. This early in the morning the traffic is still rather light...” 

Griselda nodded and turned her attention back to Marianne. “Ye doing all right?” 

Marianne nodded though it was clear she was in pain. “Yes, I’m fine.” 

Bog smiled pressing a kiss to the side of Marianne’s head. “My tough girl.” 

Marianne smiled at him, then groaned as another wave of pain hit her. 

Griselda tried to stay calm. She could only imagine how Bog was feeling, but she was proud of her boy. After his initial shock in the airport, he had remained calm, sang to his wife, never letting the panic that his mother could see in his eyes overwhelm him or leak into his voice, even though the next fifteen minutes were the longest that Griselda had ever experienced, aside from her own delivery of Bog. Thinking about Bog’s birth didn’t help her to achieve calm, her little wee baby, underweight, so small, the difficult birth...and here Marianne was delivering early. She prayed that everything would go well. 

* 

When they arrived at the hospital, there was no time to worry or think. Marianne was rushed in once it was clear what was happening, the hospital staff taking over quickly, getting her in a wheelchair and a friendly, portly nurse led them to the maternity floor. Griselda and Brodie followed in the elevator and to the end of the hall near the waiting rooms on the maternity floor when Bog stopped in the doorway of Marianne’s room turning to look at his parents with a quizzical lift of his brow. 

“What’re ye doing? Get in here?” Bog growled motioning at his mother and father. 

Brodie and Griselda exchanged a look. 

Bog smiled. “Come on, we want ye both in here. We’d decided that before we left the States. We would have had Marianne’s father here too, but the poor man looked under the weather at the thought.” Bog chuckled. “Though ye’ll get to meet him in about a week...so are ye coming?” 

Griselda grinned at Brodie. “Yes.” 

Brodie didn’t look particularly comfortable about the idea, but he followed his wife into the delivery room, the thought of getting to see his grandchild enter the word made his heart do a little happy twist. 

* 

Bog took up his position on Marianne’s right, holding her hand, while stroking her hair with the fingers of his other hand. His encouraging smile and sparkling blue eyes helped Marianne focus on her breathing. 

Brodie and Griselda stood on her left with Griselda holding Marianne’s other hand. The pleasure of being her at the birth of her grandchild was written all over the older woman’s face. Even Brodie looked spellbound (and worried) as they waited for the arrival of a new King into the family. 

Six hours into Marianne’s labor, a little girl was born. She was tiny, but healthy with a shock of thick, black hair. Bog stayed by Marianne’s side the entire time, holding her hand, stroking her hair, singing to her when she requested, feeding her ice chips, or simply giving his silent support with the occasional kiss to encourage her along. 

Griselda watched in tears as the little girl, her granddaughter was born and laid on Marianne’s stomach. The little baby cried, but it wasn’t the cry of fear, more a cry of annoyance. Griselda laughed looking at her husband who watched without a sound, though she could see the happy tears gathering in the corners of Brodie’s eyes. 

Bog looked stunned at the sight of his little daughter, but the smile on his face was breathtaking. “Look at her...she’s so beautiful…” Bog spoke softly, as if afraid of breaking some spell as he looked at Marianne. “She looks just like you.” 

Marianne looked exhausted, but she laughed. “Oh Bog.” 

The nurse grinned at Bog. “Would you like to cut the cord?” 

Bog grinned, his eyes only for his new daughter. “Aye.” 

The nurse brought him over showing him what to do and within seconds the cord was cut and the nurse picked the little girl up. “I’ll have her cleaned and wrapped up for you in a moment,” she said to Marianne. 

The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a short grey bob of hair and kind eyes smiled. “Well, you’ll get to hold them both in a minute. I think number two has decided not to wait.” 

Griselda stiffened, as did her husband next to her. “Two?” they both asked in unison. 

Bog was stroking Marianne’s hair as she leaned her head back against the pillows. 

Marianne’s voice was tired, but she still grinned mischieviously as Bog smiled at his parents. “Twins--we’re having twins. Surprise!” Bog laughed, glancing down at his wife who smiled back at him before she grimaced. 

“WHAT?!” Griselda yelped while Brodie shook his head like he hadn’t heard Bog correctly. “Repeat that boy...” Brodie tilted his head slightly at his son as if he expected a different answer the next time around. 

That was when they heard a nurse who had poked her head in, call out. “Ah, I have a Dawn and Sunny King here who said they are supposed to be here for the birth?” 

Marianne waved a hand. “Yes, yes that’s my sister and her husband.” 

Marianne turned to look at Bog. “You remembered!” 

Bog grinned. “I would have called them sooner, but with you and the twins deciding to jump the gun and go into labor at the airport…so I called while I was getting the luggage.” 

A few seconds later Dawn, her hair still short and now shaved on one side, came rushing in with Sunny--whose hair now fell well below his shoulders and decorated with a few silver hair beads--in tow. The two had eloped justed a month ago, deciding against a big wedding, and to the irritation of most of the family. 

“Marianne! Did I miss it...OH MY GOD, YOU HAD THE BABY ALREADY!!” Dawn squealed when she saw the baby being wrapped in a blanket by the nurse. 

Marianne groaned, the contractions hitting her as baby number two decided it wasn’t going to wait. “You’re just in time for number two.” 

Dawn looked at everyone in turn. “Number two?” 

Griselda still looked shocked as she whispered. “Twins, they lied to us again...they’re not just having one baby, they’re having twins. They fookin lied again...” 

Dawn gasped just as Marianne began to push. Bog held his wife’s hand as their second child entered the world, much quicker than the first with a loud and angry scream. 

The baby was set on Marianne’s stomach, the doctor smiling. “Congratulations, it’s a boy!” 

“Boys?” Dawn asked in surprise. 

Griselda started with cry. “A girl and a boy.” 

Dawn blinked, still in shock. “A girl and a boy?” 

She looked at her husband, who shrugged, clearly just as confused. 

Bog cut the cord of his son with more confidence than he had his daughter and soon, after everything was settled, the babies cleaned, checked and wrapped in blankets--the doctor having made sure that Marianne was comfortable and resting--they were left in the room with the two new lives that they had brought into the word. 

Bog was lying on the bed next to Marianne holding their daughter. He cooed softly to the little baby in his arms, brushing her tiny lips with his fingertip, his little daughter blinking large blue eyes up at her father while Marianne breast-fed their son, whose hair was a light blonde. Everything about him was lighter, paler than his sister with her dark hair and more ruddy complexion. His blue eyes glared up at his mother as if he were rather annoyed at having been given birth to first. 

Dawn was sitting on Sunny’s lap in a chair to Marianne’s side while Griselda and Brodie sat on Bog’s side, all eyes on the new babies. 

Griselda shook her head. “I cannae believe ye both lied to us again.” 

Bog looked up from his daughter with a grin. “Sorry Mam. I know I told ye never again, but…it wasn’t a lie...just didn’t tell you the whole truth.” He shrugged, his smile widening, clearly not sorry. “Would ye like to hold yer granddaughter?” 

Griselda smiled as she stood with her arms out. Bog sat up and eased his daughter into his mother’s arms with a proud smile. 

Griselda took her granddaughter with a stunned expression. “She’s so beautiful.” 

Bog smiled and nodded. “Just like her mother.” 

Marianne looked up from feeding their son. “And this one is like his father. Look at how he seems so angry, feeding with his little furrowed brow.” Marianne giggled and cooed down at her son. 

“What are you so grumpy about?” 

Bog looked over at his son and laughed reaching over to rub the little baby’s brow with his fingers. “Aye, he already looks like he has a temper.” 

Griselda continued to smile, sitting back down with Brodie and cradling the baby girl against her. 

Brodie reached out to gently stroke his granddaughter’s cheeks. “Ah, look at her, sweet little thing and all that black hair.” 

Dawn grinned. “So what are you naming them?” 

Bog glanced at Marianne who just smiled at him before he answered. “This little one is Paden and his sister is Lily, after Marianne’s mother.” 

Dawn gasped. “Oh Marianne!” 

Marianne smiled. “It was Bog’s idea, and we both liked Paden. Thought the name was only proper, considering.” She laughed quietly, brushing little Paden’s cheek. 

Marianne finished feeding Paden, the little boy having fallen asleep. Bog lifted the little baby from Marianne’s arms so she could cover herself and held his son close whispering softly when the baby yawned. “My little wee lad.” 

He walked over with the baby and handed him to Dawn. Dawn looked shocked as she took the baby, glancing at Sunny who was all smiles. 

“I can’t believe I’m an aunt and you’re an uncle!” Dawn said in a quiet voice, then burst into tears turning her attention back to the baby in her arms. “Hey Paden, I’m your aunt and this is your uncle.” 

Sunny beamed at the baby. “Hey there Paden. I’m going to teach you to play guitar.” 

Everyone cooed over the babies, but a while later Marianne yawned. Bog was lying on the bed next to his wife, his son cradled in his arm, Lily in Marianne’s, and both new parents looked exhausted. 

Griselda stood and took the sleeping Paden from Bog. 

“Why don’t you two get some rest?” She carefully set Paden in the warmer bed, while Dawn took Lily and put the baby in her warmer bed. “You should get it while you can,” Griselda said as she walked back over to Bog and stroked her son’s hair back before kissing him on the cheek, then kissing Marianne on the forehead. 

“You both did wonderfully,” she said proudly. 

Bog smiled. “Love ye Mam, Da.” 

Brodie smiled. “Guess we better get that nursery put together before ye come home, eh? And with another crib.” 

Bog laughed. “Aye” 

Dawn kissed her sister and Bog. “I love you guys so much!” 

Sunny smiled and leaned over to hug Bog. “Yer a Da now Bog...that’s so weird.” 

Bog laughed. “Aye, I know.” 

Griselda smiled. “All right, everyone out.” 

His mother ushered everyone out of the room, turning in the door way to see that Bog and Marianne had already fallen asleep, Marianne’s head against his chest, Bog’s arm around his wife. 

She smiled happily and brought the door gently closed. 

* 

Marianne and the twins spent nine days in the hospital. 

On the day that they were released Bog came alone to pick her and his children up. 

Marianne yawned, sitting in the middle of the back seat between the two car seats, a hand resting on each baby as Bog drove. 

He glanced in the rearview mirror. “The house looks great, by the way. We got everything unpacked, between my uncles, Da, and my grandda, we got everything put away and set up. Ye won’t have to do a thing unless ye hate where we put anything.” 

Marianne laughed in a tired voice. “I don’t think I’m going to care for at least a few months. I’ll get back to you then if anything needs to be moved.” 

Bog chuckled. “Ye’ll like the kids room. The nursery looks beautiful. Yer sister painted it.” 

Marianne smiled, clearly surprised. “She did?” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, she painted the room to look like a fairy forest. It’s lovely.” 

Marianne smiled brightly. “I can’t wait to see it.” 

He smiled watching as his wife dozed off in the backseat with their sleeping children. 

* 

The house that Bog had purchased was a small cottage built around 1920. The home was located a block down from his parents’ home. The house had a whitewashed and exposed-brick exterior with a terra-cotta tile mosaic threshold and a wrought iron fence that surrounded the house. The front garden was thick with colorful flowers, a stone walkway, and surrounded with old trees providing comfort and shade. The back garden was a riot of color with more flowers bordering the fence, but there was also a large enough space in the middle for a future play set for the children. The inside of the house was just as lovely with large twenty-two foot high ceiling in the living room with a large cozy fireplace. The was a lovely kitchen painted robin’s egg blue with a sweeping staircase leading to the rooms upstairs. When she had seen the pictures of the house, Marianne had known it needed to be hers. 

But right now she was still asleep when Bog pulled up, and so she was unaware of the cars parked all around their new home. 

Bog smiled as he pulled up. He could see the pink and blue balloons taped around the front door and the large sign that read. “WELCOME HOME LILY AND PADEN.” In smaller letters underneath as if someone had just remembered to add them. “Welcome home Bog and Marianne.” 

Bog turned the engine off and turned around, reaching out to gently shake Marianne’s knee. “Marianne, we’re home.” 

Marianne yawned and opened her eyes, smiling when she saw her new home, which quickly turned into a confused frowned when she saw all the cars, the balloons, and the banner. 

“Bog…” Marianne began to ask. 

Bog chuckled. “Well, when we first arrived in Scotland, it all started with a party, it only seemed fitting that our new life here start with a party as well.” 

Marianne gazed at Bog, her eyes soft and bright. “This your idea?” 

Bog laughed. “No--my Mam was behind it. You’ll have to get used to that,” he said with a wink. “Come on, let’s introduce the newest Kings to the rest of their family.” 

Marianne smiled. “That sounds like a great idea.” 

They each grabbed a baby carrier, Bog with Lily, Marianne with Paden. Holding hands, they walked up to their new home. 

Bog pushed open the door to the house. The moment the door opened, a loud cheer rose up as their family greeted them. 

Bog laughed as he heard his great grandfather Paden yell. “All right, let’s see these new grandbabies!” 

The front door closed with a quiet click.


End file.
